


Collision Part II - Gaining Momentum

by starkind



Series: The Collision Tetralogy [2]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cliche, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Deviates From Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Jealous Bruce Wayne, Jealous Tony Stark, Rare Pairings, Rivalry, Undecided Relationship(s), Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark?<br/>Is Pepper Potts really able to tell who is right for her?<br/>Decisions may have been made, but who will suffer the consequences?</p><p>AU crossover fic, set after The Avengers (2012) and during/after the events of TDK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for those of you who wanted to know a little more about the relationship between Bruce Wayne and Pepper Potts. Still can't wrap my head around the fact I'm about to turn this into a thing (anyone having a great idea for a shipper name please don't hesitate to tell me!) 
> 
> After conquering the events of both Batman Begins and The Avengers, it's time to put the dark in The Dark Knight.

Gotham City, August 2010

  
Bruce Wayne eased out of the Batsuit with a groan and a sharp hiss. He still failed to prevent the flesh wound on his arm from ripping open further and sat down with disdain on the swivel chair at the bunker below Wayne Tower, where he and Alfred had transferred the temporary cave to. For safety measures, the spacious basement floor was only accessible through a storage container in a warehouse parking lot.

It was not much but it kept the Tumbler, the MV Agusta, and various Batman-related gadgets safe from prying eyes for time being, while the Manor got rebuild. Despite a considerable raise in manpower and financial resources, it remained a process far too slow for Bruce’s liking. He fished out some disinfectant and a sterile sewing kit from a drawer and tried to tend to his latest wounds before he got interrupted.  
  
“This is the third time in a row, Sir.”  
Bruce cast his approaching butler a guarded glance before he thrust the needle into the elder man’s waiting hands.  
“I don’t know what it is with those damn beasts all the time. Seems like every goon in Gotham owns at least two Rottweilers these days.”  
  
He winced when Alfred penetrated the sensitive flesh and distracted himself with his computer.

The butler gave him a scolding glance over the rim of his glasses as he tugged at the thread before he cut its remains and reached out for a disinfectant patch. “I hate to say it Master Wayne, but Miss Potts has definitely been more intrigued about your all-nighters lately. I am running out of reasons for the conditions you’re returning in. Maybe it would be wise to not always push yourself to the limit each time.”

Unfazed, the billionaire brushed his sleeve back down and nodded a quick thanks. “I figured she would start asking questions. Cannot blame her to be honest. Still…” Bruce rose from the chair and snatched an expensive mohair cardigan to hide his latest injury. “…the Batman has no limits, Alfred. I guess I’ll just have to be even more cautious.”

The dark knight had gotten into a routine of preventing the designated mafia boss Sal Maroni and his mob from laundering money, dealing drugs and robbing banks. Still, it seemed for every sub worker or henchman the Batman and Lieutenant Gordon brought to justice, instant new faces appeared on the scene. Frankly, Bruce was tired beyond belief, but since the so-called Joker had appeared, there was no rest for the wicked.

“Certainly Sir. Just remind the Batman to be more cautious as well while you’re at it.”  
With a fatherly smile, Alfred shooed his protege out of the warehouse.  
When the two men arrived at the silent penthouse, Bruce stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Alfred? Has she been working as hard as the past couple of days?”  
The elder man folded his hands in front of his body and indicated a nod.  
“Yes, Sir. Miss Potts has taken to her new task like the proverbial duck to the water if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Bruce’s battle-weary countenance softened at his butler’s words. He had long been in favor of Pepper putting her brains to good use for Wayne Enterprises. After a brief quarrel about her accepting money from him as his fiancée, Bruce had stated since no one officially knew of their engagement, he could put her name up on the payroll for what it was worth.

The billionaire prided himself on his gut instinct when he deployed her as a direct accountant for the interests of Lucius Fox; CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and in need of a capable assistant. The two of them seemed to get along well, and Fox had been rather insulted when Bruce asked him under the pledge of secrecy to refrain from mentioning anything Batman to her, straight-faced asking what the hell Wayne was talking about.

Instead, Bruce had listened to details about the business meeting he had missed out on with a certain Yinglain Lau, a Chinese accountant who wanted to do business with Wayne Enterprises. After Lau had raved on about how his company, Lau Security Investment Holding, held a powerful economic potential at eight percent annual growth, the numbers had led Fox to suspect much of it was off the books and probably highly illegal.

Agreeing Lau meant no good, both men soon had decided against a possible joint venture. Bruce, however, wanted more insight on Lau’s business, so Fox stayed in contact with the Chinese businessman, and Pepper wrapped up the calculations to give Lau a formal refusal soon enough. She worked long hours at her new-found office at Wayne Tower and felt she was getting back in the game.

Most evenings, though, she returned to an empty penthouse, where Alfred informed her about yet another out of city meeting Bruce had to attend. When Pepper had to fall asleep in their king size bed alone, her hands often reached out for the blank spot next to her that stayed unused until the next morning. It was a sheer wonder and only to be explained by Pepper’s great trust in her fiancé that the whole charade had not blown its cover.

Bruce shook himself out of his daze and nodded, wished Alfred a good night and made his way up towards his separate bedroom. He managed to slip into the adjourning bathroom unnoticed and got cleaned up before he eased himself onto the twin-sized bed. His nightly rest was short and pain-filled, and after five meager hours, Bruce got ready again for the upcoming day with one of his heavy workouts and a long, hot shower.

***

The early morning also found Pepper showered, dressed and all too ready to lay loving eyes on her fiance again. The billionaire sat downstairs at the open kitchen island facing the huge window front and reached for his cup of coffee when two arms encircled him from behind. As they pressed deep into his latest flesh wound, Bruce clamped his mouth shut against the pain, got his poker face in place, and turned to kiss her good morning.

“Hey Mister, you suspiciously look like my long lost fiancé. Maybe you know him? Goes by the name of Bruce Wayne. A very handsome, but sadly also very busy man.” With a smirk at her lighthearted tease, Bruce pinned her in his arms. She laughed and struggled to free herself. “No, I’m afraid that name doesn’t ring any bells. He must be a complete fool, though, for letting such a gorgeous woman run around and flirt with other men.”

Alfred emerged from the kitchen area with a tray of breakfast for Pepper and smiled at the couple sharing a moment. When Bruce released her, Pepper pulled up a bar stool and thanked the butler for his consideration. Over croissants and fruit, the couple began to talk about the current Hong Kong business deal with Lau which had sounded fishy to Pepper as well.

Bruce Wayne smiled at her gut instincts matching Lucius Fox' and his own; glad to have her by his side not only in private but also in business.  
  
“Oh, reminds me of which, Bruce - I wanted to speak to you about this new district attorney… what’s his name again?”

Pepper’s forehead creased in a slight frown, and she missed out on the pensive look on Bruce’s face. He had learned about his old friend Rachel dating the attorney just recently. Despite his own state of personal happiness, Bruce knew Rachel Dawes would always have a special place deep down in his heart, no matter what. There had been opportunities ages ago, but all of it was water under the bridge now.

“Harvey Dent - the knight in shiny white armor. What about him? Apart from hopefully bringing Gotham the peace it deserves and fighting the mob on the streets?” At his laconic response, Pepper shot him a tsking glance and wiped her mouth on a napkin before placing it aside. “Whoa there, what’s been eating you? I thought you favored the guy. In fact, I recall you wanting to throw a fundraiser for him in a couple of weeks?”

Bruce got up from the table, sloshed the remains of his coffee, and finished it in one gulp. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I’m in favor of Dent, but that doesn’t mean I gotta like it when he dates my childhood’s best friend.” At his unusual display of jealousy Pepper thinly smiled, but wisely kept quiet. She had met Rachel Dawes once at the office and found the other woman likable, if a bit nondescript.

Inwardly, Pepper wondered if Bruce Wayne somehow harbored feelings for Dawes or vice versa, but shook that thought as ridiculous from her mind.

“So that means the fundraiser for him is still on then. Good, because I already started making plans regarding catering and entertainment. Hope you don’t mind.” She threw a quick glance at her mobile before stowing it in her handbag. Chivalrous, Bruce helped her into her blazer, but not without kissing the back of her neck. “No, not at all. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you.”

She shared an amused glance with Alfred, who had begun to retrieve the dishes in the back.  
“Oh so flattering, but I guess Alfred would know, darling.”  
The butler made a humming sound of approval and turned around as they shared a final, sensuous kiss before going their separate ways.

While Pepper left for Wayne Tower, Bruce headed for the soon-to-be finished Wayne Manor grounds. He was about to revamp the cave into a more advanced home base for the Batman and put forward reasons for being on-site. Even if his secret project had top priority for him, Bruce also looked forward to the day his parents’ estate would be back to its previous glory by the end of summer.

The billionaire had not yet spoken with his fiancée about a vague idea that had struck him weeks ago, which was to make use of the imminent housewarming party to announce their engagement to the public. It was bound to become harder and harder to hide the fact that Gotham’s prince was seeing someone for more than a couple of dinner dates, and his playboy charade was going to fly out of the window soon.

He slipped into his favorite Lamborghini Murciélago, pulled out of the private garage of his hotel, and sped off towards the Palisades.

 


	2. Chapter 2

At work, Pepper placed her trench coat and handbag on the desk, opened a window and glanced at the watch above the door frame. 08:15 AM and no sign of Lucius Fox so far. She sunk into her chair and booted up her computer. At Wayne Enterprises, no one knew of her personal connection to Bruce Wayne, except for the discreet CEO who was her boss.

She knew he and Bruce were close, so Pepper tried extra hard to earn Fox respect. Her professional competence did not need any bonus from being Bruce’s girlfriend. Pepper pulled a huge pile of files and dossiers from the drawer upon her table, nimble fingers finding the sticky notes from the previous day straightaway. Within ten minutes she was engrossed in her work and clicked through various files on screen.

She almost missed the small knock as Lucius Fox stood in the doorframe to greet her good morning before he went into his own office and shut the door behind him. After another one and a half hours, Pepper helped herself to a hot mug of tea and started flipping through the last part of the latest dossier when a knock on her door shook her out of her reverie.

“Come in.”

It turned out to be a young blonde man with short hair who carried a folder underneath his arm and looked troubled. Not having seen his face around Wayne Enterprises before, Pepper smiled and motioned for him to have a seat. He eyed her closely before he wet his lips and fumbled with a pile of documents on his lap. “Miss… Potts it is, right? Could I have a word with you? I won't be wasting your time.”  
  
She questioningly looked at him. “What can I do for you, Mister…” “Reese. Coleman Reese. I’m a freelance consultant and currently going through the diligence on the LSIH deal. I stumbled across some irregularities Mister Fox might find… interesting.” Pepper kept a straight face, leaned back in her seat and intertwined her fingers in her lap.  
  
“Well, Mister Reese, I’m not sure why you’re wasting your time with me then. Mister Fox is in his office, shall I try to squeeze in an appointment for you?” She made a move to reach for her phone but stopped when the young man shook his head and placed the thick manila folder on her desk with a thud. “I think you might have much more leverage to speak with Mister Fox than me - once you’ve taken a look at these.”

He flipped the first pages open and turned the whole package around for her to read. There were blueprints from R&D most marked “confidential”. Signed and authorized by Lucius Fox, they displayed structural designs of a huge, military-like vessel. Pepper’s eyes met those of the smug lawyer. “I’m sorry Mister Reese, but what is it you’re trying to prove to me here?”  
  
His mouth curved into an inpatient line as he pointed a finger towards the last paragraph. “I’m saying Mister Fox apparently tried to sell this applied sciences stuff under the cloak of building army cell phones. This doesn't look like a phone, or does it?” Pepper regarded the designs labeled ‘The Tumbler’ and wondered if Bruce knew anything about what his company did behind his back.

Whilst she was busy studying the files, Reese licked his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The sound of him clearing his throat made her stop browsing the pages. “See, my point is this: If Wayne Enterprises is unofficially funding super power technology stuff for Gotham’s dark vigilante, then I am clearly missing out on fair breaks.”

Pepper had been in business too long to not know blackmail, despite the casual tone it was coated with.

With a polite, non-committed smile she placed her hands upon the whole pile and slowly pulled the file over. Reese blinked twice but refrained from making a move. ”I certainly thank you for taking the time to confine in me, Mister Reese. Be assured I will pass this information on to Mister Fox as soon as possible.” When he opened his mouth, Pepper rose from her chair which forced him to follow her lead.

“But for now: Have a nice day Mister Reese. We’ll ah, stay in touch.”  
She pointedly looked over to where two familiar guards strolled past her office and gave a little wave.  
Coleman Reese squirmed a little but took his leave.

After he was gone, Pepper stared long and hard at the pile of paper in her arms and mulled over the decision how to approach Lucius Fox. With squared shoulders, she marched over to his office and knocked on his door. After being allowed to come in, she walked up to his desk and waited until he looked at her over the rim of his reading glasses. Fox let the reports in his hand sink and indicated for her to have a seat.  
  
“Yes Pepper, what is it?”  
She placed the folder in front, breathed through her nose and told him about her visitor.  
“He basically said in exchange for these he wants… something.”

They shared a look that told Fox everything. After he had flipped through the pages with a wistful smile, he looked at the woman across from him. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions regarding this here.” His voice, despite being utterly calm and friendly, was baiting her. Pepper said the first thing on her mind. “I’m not working for R&D, so I’m not at liberty to discuss this, but Reese definitely needs to get a warning shot.”

Lucius Fox smiled at her, almost as if she had passed some kind of secret test, took off his glasses and placed them aside. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of that. Thank you for passing this on to me.” Feeling dismissed Pepper rose and, with no further comment from Fox, walked over to the door. Before she left his office she turned around, causing the black man to look up again.  
  
“Lucius… this all serves a good cause, right?”

His solemn nod caused her to nod in return before she closed the door.

***

When Yinglain Lau left Gotham in a hurry a couple of days later, Bruce got together with Fox to figure out the ulterior motives behind the sudden move.

It turned out their suspicions about the true nature behind the shady businessman had proven to be true. Since Gotham's Major Crimes Unit had shut down all other money laundering services in Gotham, Lau apparently had seized the Mafia's savings to prevent it from capture and had the money moved to ensure its safety.

Fox grimly walked with Bruce along the vast concrete warehouse of applied sciences’ division and showed him the latest inventions for the Batman. Bruce, in turn, told him about his meeting with Dent and Gordon the night before, where he got the information that Lau had, in fact, fled to Hong Kong, presumably with most of the mobsters’ money.

“You know about Lau’s international status, Mister Wayne. He is beyond Gotham City law and cannot be forced to testify. What are you going to do?”

Bruce gave a slight harrumph as his fingers fumbled with a cylindrical black object. When he pressed a hidden button and watched in stunned amazement how it released three sharp barbed hooks to swoosh past and miss his opposite by a few inches, Lucius Fox shot him a scolding look. With an apologetic smirk, Bruce placed the dangerous object back into its case.

“The Batman has no such jurisdictions. We’re going to find Lau; regardless of where he’s hiding, and bring him back to be convicted for aiding the Mafia.” Fox looked as if he had not expected any other answer. “This means we’re going to Hong Kong then. Anything special for that certain part of your luggage you’d like me to bring along?” Bruce gave his trademark, thin-lipped smile and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  
  
“Hm, apart from that lightweight armor, there was one thing you told me about earlier, Mister Fox, what did you call it a... sky-hook?” Fox smiled at the extravagant wishes of his employer before his countenance sobered up. “Oh, by the way: A little bird just recently told Miss Potts about the mere existence of some of Wayne Enterprises’ rather… eccentric toys. I’d be on the lookout with those upcoming travel plans of yours.”

They shared a look of understanding before Fox headed home, and Bruce left to pick up Pepper. The two of them wanted to attend the Russian Ballet performance later that night. What he had not told his fiancée was the secret plan to sweep away the ensemble of young dancers to the Pacific Ocean afterward; to cross the borders to the South China Sea and make his way to Hong Kong without causing unwanted attention.

Bruce had been glad to leave the final, most outlandish parts of the plan to Alfred.

Back at home, he went and changed his business suit for an elegant tuxedo. When Pepper stepped up to him in a long black, sequined dress, Bruce had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. Her hair had grown out into a sophisticated short bob and she wore high heels again for the first time in a few months, equaling them in height. Not that Bruce minded; he had always appreciated tall and strong women.

“With you looking like that, I’d rather suggest we stay at home.”

His eyes held an appraising shine as they met hers in the mirror while he was doing his bow tie. Pepper raised a seductive eyebrow before she pursed her shimmering lips. “And miss out on the only opportunity to watch the Ballet, sparse as they come round here? Now Bruce - I think you overestimate your means of persuasion, my dear...”

With a gentle pat on his backside, Pepper squeezed past him and walked out of the dressing room. She remained standing in the doorway, however, to give him one final once-over. It was clear that she, too, liked what she saw. “…but I am up for negotiations on that topic later the night, if you like.” Bruce gave a tight smile as she went to fetch her coat.  
  
The billionaire watched her leave and waited a couple of seconds until he slipped a small package with a mild, tasteless soporific into his jacket. He felt horrible but was left without a choice. The mission had to go smoothly, and he could not risk Pepper to foil his plans, even by accident.

***

The ballet was wonderful and Pepper made a mental note to visit opera, ballet and theater performances with Bruce more often in the future. He seemed to have the same train of thoughts as they chatted in the foyer during the interlude, sipping on the champagne he had organized. During the second half, however, Pepper started to feel tired and was unable to refrain from hearty yawning which she tried to hide.

Bruce patted her arm with affection in their secluded VIP lounge and told her it was not a problem.

Before the final curtain fell, Wayne guided his sleepy cargo into a waiting limousine at the back entrance of the theater, an arm slung around her waist to keep her upright. During their silent drive back, with Pepper’s head on his shoulder, Bruce Wayne felt his guilty conscience nagging at him whilst the Batman felt the thrill of his upcoming mission.

He got her into the penthouse unnoticed and caressed her face one last time before he left under the obscurity of the night.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some harmless sexy stuff towards the ending.

When Pepper awoke the next day, she had slept for more then twelve hours straight.

Foggy-brained she pushed herself up and found Bruce missing. Worry about having missed out on work mingled with confusion until she remembered it was a Saturday and looked at the watch on the nightstand. Already mid-afternoon. With a curse, she pulled the sheets aside and noticed she had fallen asleep in last night’s underwear. Her dress lay neatly folded on a valet stand and there was a glass of water next to her.

In two gulps she had drowned the whole contents and made a face at the disgusting taste in her mouth. Off for the bathroom, Pepper took a shower and brushed her teeth. While she stood under the warm current of water and massaged her scalp with shampoo, she figured it could not have been from the alcohol; she must have been under more stress than she had realized during the past few months.

Apparently, her body had shown her it just needed a well-deserved rest.

Half an hour later and feeling much better, she casually dressed and stepped down into the empty living area of the penthouse. “Bruce? Alfred?” No answer from either man, so Pepper sauntered over to the kitchen table and made herself something to eat. A large bowl of granola and a huge cup of coffee later, she snatched the nearby newspaper from the bar where the cleaning crew had left it and flipped it to front page.

The big bold letters that stared back at her made no sense at first, so she tried again.

**‘Love Boat: Billionaire Absconds With Entire Russian Ballet’**

Brow creasing in a huge frown, Pepper placed her half-eaten bowl aside to re-read The Gotham Observer’s headline once more. The picture underneath the article showed the 'Sovereign'. The coffee cup clattered on the marble counter top after she downed the remains of her beverage. “What kind of sick joke is this, Bruce?”

The article talked about Wayne who was aboard the billionaire’s yacht as of this morning and cruised the Pacific with at least four young Russian ballet dancers by his side. At the paragraph about Bruce Wayne being back in full playboy mode, and how Gotham City had missed him being on a roll for the past couple of months, Pepper flung the paper aside, put her head into her hands and rubbed her temples in simmering anger.

Had she really been that gullible to believe he had completely stepped away from his ways since knowing her?

It had been Pepper who had not wanted Bruce to officially announce their -by any means- premature engagement, as she feared it would cost both of them a lot of reputation. Besides, the circumstances in which he had proposed, and the emotional turmoil she had been under when she accepted, were far from how Pepper Potts usually made decisions on.

“ _Suppose I'd ask you to marry me... what would you say?”_  
“ _Are_ _you asking, Bruce?”  
_ “ _Would you say yes?”_

“ _I...”_  
“ _You may not love me now, Pepper - but someday, you will.”_  
“ _... yes.”_

Despite those initial doubts and hesitations, her feelings for him had thoroughly matured over the course of the last months, which now left her to pay the price for her own naïveté. The realization that no sooner she had really fallen for him, Bruce went off and pulled a Tony Stark on her made Pepper cynically question what she had expected; those happy-go-lucky billionaires were birds of a feather: Private pleasures first.

While her inner voice continued to chide her for being so shortsighted, her thoughts strayed towards the other billionaire playboy that played a non-too small part in her life. Full of guilt she realized they had not spoken after New York for almost three months, and felt ashamed about not asking how Tony had fared since the Chitauri attacks. In grim determination, she went to fetch her mobile phone and headset.

If Bruce thought she was about to sit at home and watch him pull his antics without so much of a reaction, he would be gravely mistaken. It was about time Pepper started to recollect on her own, albeit small circle of confidants; hoping to still be welcomed after all. The line did not get picked up after the fourth ring and was just about to redirect her to voice mail, when there was a familiar, out of breath voice.

“Yeah hi, I got this. I... argh, dammit, no! Little short-circuited...”  
Pepper had to stifle a laugh as she listened to Tony Stark swearing at what was one of the bots in the background; DUM-E most likely.  
“Uhm, I can call again later if this is inconvenient right now?”

After some more commotion, his deep and sonorous voice was back with her.  
Like a slap to the face, Pepper realized that very moment how she had missed the sheer sound of it.  
“Pepper? _Pepper Potts!?_ I shall be damned; that really you?”

As she walked across the penthouse in Gotham and watched the gray skies outside, she smiled when Tony gave an enthusiastic whoop and something in the back crashed down to the ground. His carefree attitude was contagious, and Pepper started to laugh as well. “Yes... yes, it’s me. Leave the workshop intact, please. And spare the bots – whatever you’re doing.” She could almost hear his smirk down the line.

“Gee, Potts - haven’t lost your legendary visionary powers. Good for you. Well, well, well - what gives me the honor of your call?”  
Before she could answer, Tony interrupted her with another, spontaneous train of thought.  
“… oh Christ on a cracker, is it still 'Potts' after all? Don’t tell me you’ve… you know…”

If Pepper had been giddy from the nostalgic good feeling of Tony’s fast-revolving mind and tongue, his last question threw her for a loop. She almost frightened herself at the intensity with which she blurted out “No!” into the headset. His relieved chuckle reverberated in her ears as she opened the doors to the roof-deck to step out for air.

“Not married, no. I'm calling because I wanted to know how you’ve been, and how the Tower’s doing in the meantime.” As Tony told Jarvis to switch to hands-free technology, Pepper heard her own voice echo off the walls in his workshop. She tried hard not to be too touched that he switched off his music in favor of hearing her over the surround sound system. It was probably just so he could continue to tinker with his hands free.

“Tower’s just peachy. I was thinking bout pulling in a couple of Avengers-related decks, but I dunno – kinda like my place nice‘n quiet.”

Pepper leaned over the railing and listened to him telling her about Thor’s peculiar ways, Clint and Natasha’s love-hate relationship, that he had taught Captain America how to google, and his shameless boasting about helping to design a new nano-technological fiber, that would ensure Bruce Banner to keep his pants on after hulking-out.

His former assistant listened to him cracking jokes; surprised how the banter between them seemed to flow so easy on the phone, almost as if the past six months had never happened. “Anyways Pep; tell me about you. What’cha been up to? Brucie Bear treating you well?” Today’s newspaper popped into her mind, so she hastened to affirm that yes, she was doing fine.

Even though Pepper was mad as hell about Bruce’s dirty play and still unsure of the motives behind it, the last thing she needed was an irate Iron Man blasting through the Gotham penthouse, about to defend his ex PA’s honor. “Good, good. Hey, maybe we should do this more often, whaddaya say? Just got me through a little constructional problem here. Not bad!”

With satisfaction, Tony started to hum a little to himself. He had figured out a way to install an oversized chest RT into his latest creation, Mark XVII, which was supposed to create a repulsor shield for protection. He had lovingly dubbed him the “Heartbreaker”, though Tony denied any kind of correlation to his own emotional state of mind.

Feeling his attention diverting to whatever mystery he had just solved, Pepper found she did want to hear his voice more often in the future.  
“Sure Stark, why not? Feel free to get inspired by me. Just remember to give me my fair share of credit when you’re rich and famous some time.”  
Tony’s wolfish grin was almost too big to overhear through the line.

“Ahh, so that’s where you’re coming from, Potts. Fair enough – let’s give you twelve percent, in case I ever make it big. An argument can be made for fifteen on a good day.” They laughed in unison at their bad jokes, before Pepper got serious. The desire to tell him she wanted to see him was getting too big to hide by the minute, so she had to cut it short.

“Anyways, I don’t want to keep you from work any longer. It’s been nice talking to you, Tony. Watch out for yourself, okay?”

The billionaire could be heard making clinking noises in the back as he cleared his throat. An awkward second ensued, in which Pepper feared he might have similar thoughts. ”Yup I will. Or rather Dwight will. Yes, that Dwight Johnson. Poor guy needed a new job, so now he’s PA’ing me. Kinda. But seriously Potts, tell me - is he gay? Cause sometimes he looks at me like…”

Pepper broke out in a resounding belly laugh, her first one in many weeks. “Tony, no! Dwight is so precious, don’t you dare to mess with him!” They continued to giggle like silly teenagers for a couple of minutes. It was then that Pepper saw Bruce leaning in the doorway of the roof-deck from the corner of her eye, watching her in silence. “Okay, have a great evening. Bye.”  
  
With a yank, the headset came off and Pepper slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. Her arms crossed in front of her chest by themselves, and she stared back at him with defiance, bitterness, and mistrust. “You’re back already. How was the cruise? No sunburn?” At the sarcasm dripping from her voice, Bruce shook his head. He looked as if he was berating himself for not getting rid of the daily newspaper.  
  
“I’m sorry for the way this looks. Let me tell you it isn’t like that. At all.” He made a few steps towards her, but Pepper sidestepped him and kept a purposeful distance. Resigned, Bruce stopped walking and clenched his jaw. “Please stop making a scene and let me explain.” Pepper just sneered up into his face.

“Oh, but there isn’t much to explain about, now is there? Billionaire playboy gets it on with Russian ballerinas aboard his yacht. I mean yes, true, people in Gotham for sure were wondering what was wrong with their favorite bachelor going all celibate on them for the past couple of months. It’s just silly _me_ who should have known better, though.”

With a snort, she brushed her hair behind her ear and dashed forward with a start, about to draw a wide circle around him and head for the door. In an instant, Bruce lunged forward and pinned her between his body and the glass front. He placed his hands on the window pane to the left and right side of her head and prevented her from escaping him.

“Damn it, Pepper, don’t do that right now. Don’t condemn me when you don’t know the reasons I had for my actions.”

His voice had a hard and clipped edge to it; one Pepper had never noticed before. While he did not touch her, she could practically see the adrenaline crawl underneath his Armani three-piece suit, almost like electricity about to discharge. Her eyes darted between his dark and menacing ones in the dim light of the approaching dusk.

“Then _give_ me your reasons! What are you hiding from me? I’m pulling a blank here, and I’m feeling left out.. not for the first time.”

After she had mustered up the courage to voice what had been troubling her for some time, Pepper watched as he shook himself out of whatever frenzy he had been in, moments before. His stance became less intimidating, and, with a small shove against the glass, Bruce detached himself and swiped a hand through his hair before stuffing both of them into his pockets.

“Lau Security International Holding deals under the table. They would’ve never let us officially enter their country to go after Lau when he hid himself away from our sphere of influence.” The billionaire sighed and went inside. Pepper’s footsteps followed him a couple of seconds later. She closed the French window behind her and turned around to stare at his broad back where he was leaning against the kitchen island; away from her.

“And that’s why you’re going all Hugh Heffner on me and the world? Why wouldn’t you just leave this to your lawyers, Bruce? Why get yourself involved in something so... utterly outrageous?” When no answer or reaction followed, she threw her hands in the air and took the stairs to the private quarters. “Who was on the phone? Stark?” At the piercing tone of his voice, she froze on the tenth step, banister in hand. 

Pepper then twisted her head so she could look at him from the corner of her eyes.  
“Now you care?”  
She did see him clench his fists but willed herself to continue walking.

After less than twenty seconds, his heavy footsteps pounded upwards as well. She stood in front of her closet and collected a few of her clothes when Bruce appeared in the doorway and glowered at her. “Do you really want to play these games, Pepper? I thought you were smarter than that.” At his disapproving tone, she slammed the doors of the closet shut with a satisfying bang and stepped up to him, dauntless from her own anger.

"If one of us is playing games here, Bruce, it’s _you_. And you’re right; I _am_ so much smarter than standing aside, listening to your shenanigans...”

Like a tiger on the prowl, Bruce advanced on her before she could finish her sentence. His mouth came crushing down on hers in a final attempt to silence her. Pepper struggled against him at first, but soon found herself responding as she kissed him back in return; hard, aggressive and open-mouthed. When her hands wandered down the front of his body, Bruce groaned into her mouth with pent-up desire.

In one swift move, he lifted her up from underneath her buttocks as her legs wrapped themselves around his torso. With quick strides, he carried her over to their bedside and all but threw her down on the comforter. Blood rushed in Pepper’s ears while he leaned in to strip off her clothes and undergarments. In turn, she pulled at his suit, and he released her for a moment to shrug off his jacket and rip the buttons of his shirt open. 

When both items lay discarded on the floor, Pepper’s hands were still busy tugging on the buckle of his leather belt to come apart before Bruce’s hot mouth was back on hers. One-handed, he managed to rid himself of his pants before he placed himself over the heady woman underneath him. Their coupling was rough, fast, vocal and, frankly, the best make-up sex Pepper ever recalled having.

Afterwards, she lay on her back and felt the hammering of Bruce’s heartbeat on the skin near her collarbone. She listened to his panting next to her ear as her fingers moved to caress his back. They traced a path down from his shoulder blades to where she felt the familiar trail of scarred skin and scabs, but also some fresh bruising underneath her fingertips. Bruce propped himself up on his elbows and dipped his forehead against hers.

”I’m sorry for everything.”  
Pepper swallowed the lump in her throat and brushed some strands of out of his face.  
“Me too. I just wanted… please don’t leave me alone so often anymore.”

Bruce looked at her, mouth a thin line, but she saw raw, unmasked feelings in his dark eyes.  
“I need you.”  
His soft confession made her raise her chin to capture his lips in a very tender kiss.

They fell asleep curled up next to each other, skin against skin.

For the first time in weeks, Pepper woke up within two strong arms that held her tight until the morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The proposal bit actually belongs to CB's character in the movie 'The New World' (of which the first half I could've done without, but..)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to move things up a little

Gotham City, August 2010  
  


It turned out that while Bruce wanted to try to make an effort, he was not able to live up to his unsaid promise to Pepper.

The Joker kept Gotham’s police department on its toes as he tightened his grip on the city with each new day. It went up to the point where he publicly announced people would have to die on a daily basis until the Batman revealed himself. Amongst his first casualties were Gotham’s Commissioner Loeb and Judge Surilloe, who had presided over the mob trials that had recently begun to take place.

Nevertheless, project fundraiser for Harvey Dent was in full swing, and Bruce left it to Pepper to put the final touches to its organization, as it kept her busy and gave him time to operate in Batman mode unhindered. His huge apartment complex served as the party location, and for the past couple of days caterers, decorators and musicians had crowded the spacious penthouse.

The fair-haired woman amidst them remained unfazed and simply worked her magic, PDA in hand, and headset glued to her ear.

When the big night of the event arrived, the penthouse soon was filled with Gotham’s high society: Politicians, celebrities and the like were mingling, socializing and eating noble finger food while decent violin music played in the background. It was, in short, as tedious as Pepper was supposed to keep it by Bruce's explicit request, and she silently cursed him for not being there on time to suffer through the boredom with her.

When his private helicopter landed on the rooftop heliport and people watched on in awe, Pepper felt a trifle bad for a subdued Harvey Dent.

The district attorney was of course accompanied by Rachel Dawes, and the two women had been engrossed in trivial small talk while Dent made his rounds through the crowd. After Bruce’s arrival, and an impromptu speech in which he praised Dent high and low for his efforts, Dawes, however, seemed to be upset. Pepper watched her pull Bruce aside to have a word with him outside on the patio.

She hid her jealous frown well, reminded herself that she was not linked to him apart from her role as assistant to Lucius Fox, and went off into the direction of the buffet. When Bruce returned after a couple of minutes with a grim expression on his face, his eyes searched for Pepper in the crowd. Just after he had spotted her, chaos erupted. At the first round of gunfire, people remained unfazed; most of them thought it was part of the entertainment program.

When it became clear the Joker and his armed gang definitely were not, panic broke out.

Pepper’s heart started racing, and she found herself wishing Tony would be there in his Iron Man suit. She tried to keep herself out of the shooting range, glanced around, and lost sight of Bruce. While she hoped he was not up to doing something foolish, she unobtrusively started to shoo people towards the emergency exit; wanting to get as many of them into safety before the madmen in front of them blew a gasket.

A single gunshot then rang out and caused the crowd to scream as an elder man crumbled to the ground. Sweat pooled underneath her gown as Pepper held out an arm towards the goon who had fired the gun. “NO! Stop it!” In an instant, she found herself looking into the barrels of half a dozen semi-automatics and stopped dead in her tracks. Pepper's eyes roamed around for a way out as the Joker laid crazed eyes on her.

He flicked his tongue and edged in on her like an animal on its prey. Her shoulders started to cramp as she pulled them higher, wanting to become invisible. “Well, hello beautiful. Whom have we here? What’s your name, brave-but-foolish lady?” Pepper refused to answer and stared past him into the terrorized faces of their bystanders. Disdained the Joker looked back at his gang.  
  
“She doesn’t like me guys, now what can we do about that?” When he turned back to her to the chuckles of his clown-masked accomplices, she saw a small revolver gleaming in his hand and involuntarily stepped back. The Joker surged forward and grabbed her arm in a tight grip, causing her to yelp in pain and surprise.

“Let. Her. Go.”  
  
All heads turned towards the dark voice booming from behind. Pepper’s eyes widened as she saw the Batman standing there; tall, dark and menacing.

Whilst the masked vigilante was the talk of the town, Bruce had been quite derisive about the whole topic, ever since Pepper had gotten attacked by two robbers in a dark alley. The billionaire had a strong opinion on the multitude of issues that came with a man who dressed up like a bat. Only much later after the incident, Pepper had learned about the quasi-hero status of the creature that had encountered her pepper spray.

People had started to suspect Harvey Dent as the mysterious cape-wearer, and indeed the attorney was nowhere to be seen.

The Joker pressed his fingers hard into her upper arm and swiveled her around to serve as a human shield between him and the dark knight. She felt the cold metal of the barrel press into the sensitive flesh of her neck underneath her jawbone. “Oh, look who’s decided to join our little party here. Let her go? Maybe I will. You first, though – let go of that mask and show your face, you coward!”

The crowd held its breath as the Joker dragged his hostage closer to the window front of the penthouse after the Batman did not comply with his wish. The rest of the Joker’s gang then tackled the masked crusader. He struggled short-handed against their dirty fighting moves for a moment, and put away several rounds of beatings before he gained the upper hand. 

In one swift and forceful motion, the Joker then yanked his hostage around, shot the glass of the window behind, and hurled her out into the night.

Before Pepper could lose consciousness, the dark body of the Batman slammed into hers, gripped her waist, and twisted them around during their fall to unhitch a gun from his utility belt. With a hissing sound, a grapple shot upwards, and a safety catch device caught their free fall only split seconds later, engulfing them in a tight, cocoon-like safety net.

When the dangling subsided, they were hanging fifty yards above the pulsating darkness of the city beneath them. As soon as she opened her eyes, Pepper found she was on her back, looking up into the sky. She tried to fight a shiver but did not succeed. “Oh God.” After a small prayer heavenwards for still being alive, the masked countenance of the Batman swam into her vision.  
  
He moved around slow, to try and give her a little space within their narrow confines, as they were basically lying pressed up onto to each other. When he saw how the swinging momentum seemed to make her queasy, he stopped. “Are you okay?” Pepper blinked and stared up into his half-hidden face, her fear of heights almost forgotten. Her jumbled thoughts strayed towards the weird voice of her savior before she scowled.

“Okay? Okay?? I just got thrown out of a 78-story building by a crazy guy with a painted face and you ask me if I’m _okay??_ Maybe this is _your_ kind of fun, Mister Phantom of the Opera, but not mine! Jesus!” The Batman watched her composure slipping and clenched his teeth. He did not speak to her again and started to push himself into a sitting position. It caused the safety net to sway again and the agitated woman to squeal in disgust.

Intrepid, she then hit his arm with a fist. “Stop moving around for Christ’s sake! Do you want us to crash down after all?!” Annoyed, the dark knight cast battle-weary eyes at her. “If you don’t want to stay up here all night, we’ll move. Now.” Leaving no room to argue he slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to him before he sliced the net open with one swift move of a Batarang.

They tumbled down several more yards until his cape opened and they floated down to the street in safety. When she had solid ground underneath her feet, Pepper’s knees buckled and she would have collapsed, if not for her grim rescuer holding her upright. Light-headed and nauseous, she heaved deep breaths to get her mind and body back under control.

His gloved fingers remained curled around her waist before Pepper finally was able to straighten up to her full height. Even while she braced herself against his hard shell armor, her breath still came in short puffs. “Sorry I just need a minute, I’m…” She peeked up and cast her intimidating company a closer look. For the first time she noticed how his bottom lip had been split open, and blood ran down his exposed chin.  
  
The Batman avoided further inspection and released her after making sure she would not keel over. He wordlessly stepped back to wipe a gloved hand across the small rivulet. While Pepper looked around to orientate herself and search for help, she found her voice again. “We need to call the police if those guys are still up there! All the guests of the party…” When she turned back around to look at him, she stopped in mid-sentence.

He was gone without a trace, leaving her alone in the dark street at a side entrance of the hotel.  
Pepper Potts ran a hand through tousled hair and slung both arms around her bare shoulders.  
“… yeah, never mind me. I’m going call the police.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the evening was a blur.

Pepper sat in the foyer, wrapped in a woolen blanket, and was interrogated by a police detective. The plastic cup of too bitter coffee in her cold hands stung as she tried to help while keeping a lookout for Bruce. She was relieved to hear that apart from one guest, no more people had gotten hurt. The Batman had apparently managed to get back in after saving her, but by then the Joker and his gang had already escaped.

“Miss Potts, I think we’re done for the moment. In case of further questions we’ll give you a call.”  
The young detective took the unused coffee cup from her hands, and Pepper placed the blanket next to her as she got up.  
“Detective, have you seen Mister Wayne by any chance? Is he being interviewed as well?”

Her frazzled nerves had been on edge since she had lost him at the party, but she tried hard to keep her voice casual and appear as a concerned employee. The detective shrugged but indicated her to wait. He walked around the counter and spoke with a colleague. “I was told Mister Wayne is on his way. You may get back home now if you like, Miss, we’re done so far.”

After she was sure everyone from forensics had left the penthouse, Pepper rushed over to the elevator, rubbed her cold upper arms and willed the lift to arrive. She leaned against the banister and felt her last energy reserves rushing out. As the doors opened, she dragged herself into the meanwhile empty and silent loft.

Bright yellow crime scene tape now separated the living room area in two parts. Lights had been dimmed, and Pepper was glad for not having to fully witness upturned furniture, a gaping hole of the window shot to pieces or the zigzagging patterns of bullet holes in floor and walls. For a moment she thought about getting sick as an aftermath of the shock, but the moment passed as quick as it had come.

“Miss Potts, thank goodness. You gave us quite a scare.”  
Alfred's familiar voice shook her out of her reverie, and Pepper swung around to see the butler step up to her.  
For a split second she even thought he would give her a hug.

“Alfred, I…”

When words failed her the young woman exhaled and tried to pull herself together. The butler placed a blanket around her shoulders and guided her upwards. “Master Wayne and I have been extremely worried about your well-being. He will be here shortly. Let me get you something to calm your nerves in the meantime.”  
  
With a mechanical nod, she made her way over to the bathroom and did the first thing that came to her mind: Taking a warm shower. Ten minutes later, Pepper sat down on her side of the bed and smiled at the mug of hot chamomile tea on her nightstand. She took a few sips and wondered why Bruce still was nowhere in sight.

Impatient she almost wanted to go downstairs to ask Alfred again, when she heard mumbled voices outside on the corridor. Her billionaire entered the bedroom in long powerful strides and she sprang up from the bed to meet him halfway, relishing the feel of his strong arms. With her own emotions running wild she thought she noticed him shaking ever so slightly despite his firm grip, and pressed her face into his neck.

“God, Bruce, I thought that was it. I…”  
His arms involuntarily clenched around her and he drew in a deep breath.  
“Don’t. You’re here with me, you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

Pepper inhaled the familiar scent that was uniquely his, and longed for the feel of his lips.  
She raised her head, placed her hands around his neck and gently forced his head towards her, only to freeze in shock.  
On the left side of his bottom lip was a large gash.

It did not bleed anymore but was definitely still raw and not much older than an hour or two.  
Pepper’s eyes widened in realization and terror. She had seen it before. Earlier that evening.  
And everything fell into place right there and right then.

Her hands shot up from where they rested on his skin, almost as if she had been burned.  
“No. Please don't. No... no... - NO! Tell me it’s not true. PLEASE!”  
In silent denial Pepper shook her head and stumbled away from him, until the back of her knees connected with the mattress.  
  
Bruce had a very tired look on his face as he held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. He made no move to follow her.  
“Pepper, listen to me...”  
Paralyzed with shock she continued to shake her head over and over as if she willed the unspoken truth to be wrong.

Numb to the bone, she slumped onto the bed and stared ahead.  
“Why, Bruce? Why?”  
Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it filled the whole room.

He walked over to stand by the window and looked out into the night as his brows furrowed with underlying irritation.  
“Gotham needs a savior. Look what this city’s coming to - tonight you almost died at the hands of this twisted piece of scum.”  
Incredulous Pepper turned around to watch him. She stared at his unreadable profile in the dim light as venom poured out of his words.

“But it’s okay for you to roam the streets as this… this Batman? Getting shot at, hurt or -even worse- _die_ while being out at night, fighting criminals? What kind of a lousy deal is this?”

Her voice quivered as she crumpled the sheets in her fist, mind reeling from the fact that Bruce Wayne - _her_ Bruce; mysterious but good-natured Bruce- was in fact no one else but Gotham’s dark vigilante. To Pepper, his revelation was even worse than Tony’s at the press conference years ago. At least Tony was inside a near indestructible armor and not just protected by mere layers of whatnot.

Bruce clenched his jaw and pressed one hand against the window frame. He seemed to have anticipated that day, but not the possible scenarios to follow. “It’s what I’ve got to do. I’ve watched my parents die by the very hands of a cold-blooded murderer on the streets. This city needs the Batman to get rid of its rotten criminals.”

Feeling she was talking to a brick wall Pepper slammed a fist on the mattress. “But you’re not invincible, dammit! I've seen the scars you own - and now that I know how you got them, it makes me sick to the bone knowing they can hurt you, when you’re… him.”

Her voice took on an agonized tone and Bruce squeezed his eyes shut as if to steel himself against the outcome. His fists clenched and unclenched several times. “I don’t know if I can handle this, Bruce. One superhero in my life has been tough enough on my nerves, long before you decided to throw on a mask and a cape.”

Silence followed her admission as both of them came to terms with what it meant for their future. Pepper figured he would start arguing, telling her those fears would be unfounded and ridiculous, and inwardly started bracing herself. She was, however, completely unprepared for his next move.

“So this is it then.”  
The young woman looked up to where Bruce stood still half-turned away from her, unmoving.  
Her knuckles went white from the sheer force she gripped the blankets with.

“Are you asking… or telling me?”

Pepper felt a coldness creep up inside her heart, and drew in a shuddering breath. She wished for her legs to move, to stand up and walk over to him but they would not comply. There was a barrier between them all of a sudden; too high to tear down and overcome. Bruce narrowed his eyes at the darkness outside.

“That’s not up to me. What I _do_ know is that I’ll keep you safe from this madman, come hell or high water. And I definitely can’t do that with you staying in Gotham at the moment.” His voice sounded clipped as he started to move again, crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned back around to face her.

“When I told you that I need you, I wasn’t kidding. But as you’ve come to realize tonight, there are a lot of issues to be taken into consideration.” Bruce licked dry lips and felt his tongue scrape over the stinging cut on his bottom lip. “I can’t blame you if you decide this here is not what you wanted, and therefore I suggest you to leave Gotham for a while to figure it out.”  
  
Her head shot up to meet his cool and calculating glance. His conclusion had caught her off guard. “You’re offering me an out on our relationship, based on the fact you’d much rather chase dangerous criminals around at night and lead a playboy masquerade during the day?” Pepper found herself torn between irritation and bafflement, an empty feeling sinking deep into the pit of her stomach.

He nodded once, eyes cold and mouth a thin line. “If you want to put it that way; yes. We both weren’t sure where this thing would lead us, admit it. And as long as there are people like the Joker running around, you’d never be safe.” She shook her head as he spoke. Pepper hated how he twisted the circumstances around to make it seem like she was the depending factor in the whole decision.

Anger outweighed her desperation and she tried to cover up her vulnerability. “Why now, that’s really rich, Mister. Tell me honestly though: Were you thinking I’d never find out? Always the timid little wifey waiting patiently for you on the couch?” Pepper gave an emotionless, hollow laugh and rubbed her forehead with a palm as he made no move to object. It left her even more stunned at his apparent audacity. 

“Like that? Really? Never asking questions to whatever messed up state you’re coming home? _If_ you're coming home at all, that is?” He refrained from giving a response to her rant and, with weary steps and slumped shoulders, walked around to where she sat on the side of the mattress. Pepper snorted and ran a hand through her hair. "I thought you were different. Damn you billionaire playboys wanting to save the world. Damn you to hell.”

She straightened her back before she raised her chin defiantly into his direction.  
“I’m leaving Gotham first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll drop Lucius an e-mail telling him I won’t be in for time being.”  
When he gave a grim nod she stood up; finalized plan of action in mind. Neither of them looked the other in the eye.

“Could you make sure I’ll get an early flight, please?” The billionaire made a move to cup her shoulder, but she turned away that very instant. Nonetheless, he saw tears gleaming in her eyes. Bruce hated himself at that moment but knew there was no turning back. He told himself it was the best for them, even if it did not feel that way. “A jet will be ready to take you anywhere you want to go.”

With no further words, he left the room and closed the door behind him. Like in a trance Pepper went on to go through the motions of gathering her belongings. She knew if she paused and started to think, it would most likely result in her storming into his room, clinging tight to him and bawling her eyes out like a little schoolgirl. But Pepper Potts was a grown-up, strong woman.  
  
And so, that night, they slept in their separate bedrooms for the last time.  
And both of them laid awake for the most part and stared at the ceiling.

***

At the break of dawn, she rose from an uneven slumber, dressed and went downstairs to find her set of suitcases ready for pick-up service. Bruce was nowhere in sight, and while it severely cut into her heart to not be able to tell him goodbye, it made things easier. She swung around to the sound of Alfred's voice and saw honest regret flashing over his weathered face. 

"Miss Potts, your presence here will be terribly missed.”

The young woman did not begrudge the butler for protecting his protege and his wish in keeping the truth from her. Instead she gave in to her instincts, stepped forward and Alfred accepted her hug. Before Pepper started to tremble she pulled back with a resolute sniff after a few seconds before her emotions threatened to overspill.

"I’ll miss you too, Alfred. Please don't think I'm leaving him because he's... because of the..."  
He gave a fatherly nod to indicate he understood. "I am sure Master Wayne knows, despite what he may have led you to believe otherwise. These are dangerous times, Miss Potts. Let's hope for the change to arrive soon."

Pepper watched as her luggage got wheeled away and saw the designated limousine driver standing in the doorway, ready to take her to the airfield. With a sad smile, she looked one more time at the butler whom she had come to value deeply.

"Take good care of him, Alfred – especially now."

Pennyworth nodded mirthlessly as the young woman shouldered her handbag and exited the penthouse suite with one last glance over her shoulder. After he had closed the door, the butler exhaled and went to check for his pocket watch. His hand touched a small, foreign object instead, and Alfred pulled it out. He regarded the precious Tiffany engagement ring between thumb and index finger with solemn eyes.

After a while, his fist closed around it and he went to look for his brooding protege.

***

The drive to the airfield took longer than anticipated, due to several road blocks and traffic jams.  
  
When the black limousine drove onto the private airfield after 45 minutes, Pepper stepped out of the car, nodded a thanks to the driver before he drove off and made her way over to the waiting Slipstream liner with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo on the side. One foot already on the gangway, the sounds of an aggressive sports car engine made her stop and turn around.

She brushed her hair against a sharp gust of wind and her heart leaped at the sight of an approaching, dark-gray Lamborghini speeding along the tarmac, blazing up a trail of dust. The Murciélago came to a skidding halt several yards away, door lifting open, and Bruce looked at her. He started to break into a light jog, and Pepper let her weekender tumble to the ground before she got swept away in a strong embrace.

Bruce smelled of soap and leather as he held her close, and mumbled something she could not understand at first, so she leaned back.  
  
“Not like that, Pepper, not like that.”

The rare vulnerability in his voice made her shake even more and she clawed at his jacket. He cupped her face and kissed her with passion until she was dizzy and wrapped her hands around his broad shoulders to keep her balance. Bruce then pressed his forehead to hers and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. When the billionaire spoke, his breath was warm on her face.

“All I need is a little more time. After I’ve dealt with everything, Gotham will no longer need the Batman. Harvey Dent is going to be the hero they deserve. He’s already locked up half of the city's criminals and he did it without wearing a mask. Gotham needs a hero with a face and they will get him. It won’t be me anymore. I promise.” Bruce looked down into her serious face and brushed a strand of her hair aside.

Pepper then felt him reaching out for her left hand as he slipped the engagement ring back on her finger. “Say you'll wait for me. Until it’s over and done.” She nodded. Her hands clasped behind his neck and pulled him into a final kiss. “I will. But please, be careful Bruce - please!” The turbines of the plane sprang to life and they parted ways, fingers entwined until sh had to pick up her forlorn bag and stepped up the gangway.

She sat down in a plush seat and glanced out to where Bruce leaned against his car, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Gotham City, August 2010  


With shaking hands, Bruce maneuvered the Batpod to the bunker below Wayne Tower and switched off the powerful engine.

He stayed in a half-laying, half-sitting position on the vehicle for a couple of moments and tried to get his equilibrium back in place. He did not remember most from the drive back from the warehouse, and frankly he did not care. The night had ended in disaster in so many ways that he was unable to focus on physical pain. All he could hear or see were explosions, and flashes of blood and debris before his inner eye.

The explosions set up by the Joker which ended the life of Rachel Dawes before the Batman could get in on time and save her. The sounds from the barrel of the gun as Harvey Dent shot cops and mobsters alike to make them pay for her death. The dull thud from the projectile hitting his Kevlar armor as Dent fired at him; holding Gordon’s family hostage in a deadly showdown atop an abandoned warehouse.

Bruce drew in a shaky breath and proceeded to slide off the Batpod. His left leg buckled and he collapsed on the floor in an undignified heap. When the hot, searing pain from his kneecap up to his hip had ebbed off, he pushed himself into a semi-sitting position. He leaned against the motorbike, its large wheels still heated from his flight, and inhaled the smell of rubber while he pried off the cowl with aching shoulders.

The sounds of hurried footsteps reached his ears, and he dropped his arms. Soon, Alfred Pennyworth crouched down and took in the battered state of his protege. Bruce Wayne stared ahead, eyes unseeing. “Rachel is dead, Alfred. I… I failed to save her.” The voice was empty and lifeless, and the butler swallowed. His gaze wandered across the armor and saw a pierced spot at the stomach area which oozed dark blood.

“I am sure you did everything that was in your power, Master Wayne.” With a cynical laugh, Bruce shook his head and tried to get back into a standing position. “The Joker had planned it all; I should have seen it coming. Rachel and Dent are just two more bodies this city’s got to mourn because I couldn’t protect them!” When his leg threatened to give way underneath him again, it was Alfred who caught his fall and steadied him.

Bruce clenched his teeth as the sudden movements made the pain flare up in both his leg and stomach again. With care, Alfred positioned himself underneath one of his shoulders to support most of his weight. “Let’s get you upstairs to have a proper look at those injuries. There is no need to punish yourself with the pain at hand, Sir.” They began to inch their way over to the elevator and into the penthouse.

All the while Bruce tried to fight off his vertigo and the muscle spasms that wormed through his whole body with each step. He wiped at the sheen of cold sweat which covered his neck and brow and shuffled over to the couch in the living room. Alfred started to examine the wound, and saw the bullet had penetrated the skin underneath the armor.

It also had dragged bits and pieces of the Kevlar fabric deeper into the wound, so that the butler needed more time, antiseptics and gauze bandages than expected to clear the area before it would become infected. Bruce remained silent during the whole ordeal, stared up at the ceiling and only twitched from time to time when the butler dug too deep into the most sensitive tissue areas of his skin.

“I am afraid I will not be qualified enough to properly assess the damage done to your leg, Master Wayne - maybe we should consult an orthopedic surgeon.” Alfred looked up from where his silent charge still lay motionless with his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing labored. The billionaire eventually opened his eyes and swung his legs over the rim of the couch into a sitting position.  
  
“No doctors or hospitals. I’ll live.”

Whilst he started to remove the rest of his armor, Bruce steeled himself against the impact of his upcoming words. “When the Joker killed Rachel, he had counted on Dent to go out and seek revenge. He was gloating at me, Alfred… gloating he’d won now that Gotham would lose hope once Dent’s rampage became public. I couldn’t let this happen.”

The butler watched him take off the armored plates one by one and looked at a torso which showed the signs of a serious beating. The skin on Bruce Wayne’s throat, chest and upper arms were covered in an angry web of red, blue and purple welts and bruises. With a shuddering breath, Bruce braced himself against the armrest and came to a wobbly stand, intent on making his way upstairs into the master bedroom.

Unable to look Alfred in the eye, he inhaled before he concluded in a quiet voice. “I convinced Gordon to frame the Batman for the murders Dent caused, and for his own.” Alfred Pennyworth reached out to steady his swaying protege. He kept silent as Bruce Wayne poured out his troubles during the short way upwards to the bedroom which took them ten pain-filled minutes.

”Commissioner Gordon agreed to launch a manhunt for the Batman, for the sake of Harvey Dent as a symbol of hope for Gotham, Sir?” Bruce accepted two painkillers and a glass of water from him before he eased down in the sheets. “Yes, Alfred. It’s the only thing I was able to give them.” Alfred took the glass and placed it on the nightstand. He blinked sad eyes at his charge.  
  
“No, Master Wayne, you’ve given this city much more than that. The Commissioner knows - and Miss Dawes knew it, too.”  
At the mention of his deceased friend, Bruce sighed and rubbed his aching eyes.  
“At the fundraiser, Rachel told me she wanted... she said she was going to wait for me, Alfred.”  
  
He cast bloodshot, desperate eyes up and found his confidant glance back at him with compassion.  
  
“Pepper doesn’t know. She can never know.”

With a bow of the head in acceptance, Alfred pulled the blankets higher up around Bruce’s shivering, mangled form and started to retreat. When he turned around one last time, he saw his all-but son cover his eyes within the crook of his right elbow. For one moment, Bruce Wayne looked every bit the young man in his early thirties he actually was. The butler’s heart ached at the sight.

“Shall I contact Miss Potts, Master Wayne?”  
Bruce’s answer came out muffled.  
“I don’t want her to see me this way.”

With a quick and hurried prayer, Alfred Pennyworth settled in for a long, restless night.

***

The next morning found Gotham covered in thick, gray clouds underneath a heavy downpour.

During the brief and fitful night, Bruce’s bullet wound had started to bleed heavier than anticipated and forced Alfred to re-bandage the area every one and a half hours. On top of that, a slight fever had set in and caused the billionaire to toss and turn in sweaty sheets, unable to get up with his left leg almost completely immobile. Eery movement hurt, despite Bruce’s tries to cover up.

After he had witnessed the pale and clammy face and its refusal to get medical help for the longest time, Alfred had enough and went to contact Lucius Fox. The two men agreed upon Fox getting in touch with a befriended, retired surgeon from Chicago whom he wanted to check on the billionaire. Doctor Frank Walker, a man in his late sixties with a balding head, arrived three hours later.  
  
He took half an hour with his wayward patient before he came to a diagnosis. “I’m afraid Mister Wayne has destroyed most, if not all, cartilage in his knee. You said he fell off his horse during a Polo match, Mister Pennyworth?” Alfred nodded as the doctor started to scribble something down.  
  
“I’m not able to run X-ray scans, but I guess there’s a lot of built-up scar tissue. Such bad condition stems from a long-term abuse of the leg and not just a single injury.” Doctor Walker snapped the locks of his medical bag shut and looked at Alfred and Lucius. “While the fall may have exacerbated the issue, chances are the abrasion took place due to rigorous training and constant stress he placed on his body in the past.”

“Yes, when it comes to Polo Master Wayne is indeed quite… relentless.”  
Alfred shared a quick look with Lucius Fox before he cleared his throat.  
“Is there anything you can do for him in the meantime, Doctor?”

Frank Walker stood up and pushed a prescription into Alfred’s hands. “I can only give him something stronger against the pain at hand, but as a doctor, I have to insist Mister Wayne gets proper care in terms of an orthopedic specialist soon.”

Since Bruce Wayne refused to see Fox in after Walker had arrived, he left together with the doctor. Alfred Pennyworth stayed behind, pocketed the prescription and went to check on his irritable patient. He went into the darkened bedroom, equipped with a light supper, and found the billionaire with his back towards him.

The butler placed the tray aside and slowly stepped around the bedside. When he walked over to open one of the windows, Alfred all but sensed the glowering stare at his back. “I told you I didn’t want a doctor.” With circumspect motions, the butler turned around, stepped near to collect a wet cloth which had slid down onto the floor and placed it back into a small water bowl.  
  
“Indeed, Master Wayne. May I object though that I am still responsible for your health and well-being? I will not stand aside and watch you suffer because of your pigheadedness. And, pardon me Sir, but you _will_ see an orthopedic specialist soon if you do not want to remain being bound to this bed in the future.”

Bruce fixated him with a cold stare and tried to turn around on his back. He got angry at the pain which erupted, and even more angry that Alfred had to witness his struggles. “I know how much you love to say ‘I told you so’. Now you have a very good reason. Relish that feeling while it lasts, and leave me alone.” Not rising to the bait, Alfred took empty water bottles along and left the bedroom with no further comments.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've searched the interwebs high and low to find out if Pepper's chosen destination is kind of canon. Hope it is.

Connecticut, August 2010

  
When her phone rang, Pepper was just about to pay for her coffee-to-go at a local Starbucks in her hometown in New Haven. She had been in town for the past couple of days and spent most of them walking around the familiar premises. Her attempts to come to terms with the recent changes in her life and getting some rest had proven to be futile.  
  
After leaving Gotham, she had toyed with the idea of going to New York to pay Tony a visit. However, Pepper figured it was better to keep her ambiguous relationships with both billionaires less complicated than it already was. She therefore had opted for lying low by checking into the New Haven hotel downtown instead, and awaited news from Gotham with each new day.

The close proximity to Gotham City her hometown provided had been the main reason she had chosen Connecticut – not because Pepper held sentimental hopes of meeting any kind of relatives or old friends. Neither were left in her life, but she still enjoyed the scenery of New Haven after all those times. The phone continued to vibrate around in her pocket, so Pepper grabbed the cup from the counter and fumbled for the device.  
  
“Yes?”

“Miss Potts, this is Alfred.”

Her countenance lit up at the sound of his voice and she hurried along the crosswalk. “Alfred - finally! Good to hear from you, I was beginning to get worried - it’s been almost over a week. How is everything? Bruce?” At his hesitation, Pepper stopped walking. “What happened? Is he hurt? How bad? Alfred, pray tell!” She slid on a nearby bench, put down her cup and pressed the phone close to her ear.  
  
“Rest assured it is nothing life-threatening, Miss Potts, but I would assume your presence might turn things around for the better indeed.”

“I’m taking the next flight. Could someone pick me up at the airport?”  
  
She thanked him as the butler affirmed and hurried back to her hotel. Quick to pack her bags, book a flight and check out at reception, Pepper sat on a commercial flight en route to Gotham City only a couple of hours later. Even though it was well past midnight, a driver from Wayne Enterprises was waiting for her at the arrival gate as promised. While her luggage was taken care of, Pepper hastened to make her way up to the penthouse.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief as Alfred opened the door. “How is he? I couldn’t get an earlier flight; I hope you told him I might be late.” Without bothering to shed shoes and jacket, she plunged into the living room and headed for the private quarters upstairs. “Master Wayne does not know of your arrival, Madam.” Confused Pepper stopped and turned around. “But... you called me hours ago. Why wouldn’t Bruce know I’m here by now?”  
  
Fear and worry welled up inside her once again when Alfred sighed and looked down. For the first time, the young woman realized how tired and pale the elder man looked. It tugged at her heart upon seeing how heavy the burden, which Bruce had imposed on him with his secret identity, had become. Alfred’s blue eyes lingered on hers for a moment.  
  
“He insisted not to contact you, and yet I know the effect you have on him, Miss Potts. I thought it was the only thing that might make him want to get better.” Pepper moved over to where the butler stood and looked a little forlorn, and clasped his forearm with a reassuring smile. “I’ll do my best. Please try to get some sleep as well. I promise I’ll stay with him; all night long if I have to. I’m well-rested.”  
  
Even though the butler accepted her offer, Pepper knew he would remain alerted all the same. She made her way up to the master bedroom and opened the door a crack to peek inside. It was dimly lit by a lamp on the nightstand and she opened it further to get a glimpse of the person on the bed. Bruce lay unmoving underneath the covers on his back, apparently asleep. His head was turned away from her and from the source of light.

Pepper closed the door behind her and moved over to the bedside. After she sat down, her compassionate eyes roamed around what little she could make out of his profile. Her gaze fell upon his long elegant fingers, which peeked out from underneath the blanket, and she could not resist to give them a soft stroke. They felt unusually warm to the touch.

Bruce’s subconscious mind must have registered an unfamiliar presence just then, as his eyes snapped open with a start. He gasped for air, and before he had the chance to realize who his visitor was, an accidental jolt of his injured leg almost made him scream out in agony through his drug-induced haze. With great effort, he toned it down to a pained groan and laid back into the sheets, panting through gritted teeth.  
  
When he faced his fiancée, her hand was still caught in mid-air from where she had pulled it away at his outburst. She sat next to him with a proverbial deer in the headlights look on her face. “Gosh, Bruce I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to...” While he continued to gather his bearings, Pepper examined his bare upper body that was laced with dark and deep bruises.  
  
A white bandage was visible from where the blanket pooled in his lap, and she saw the red stains that seeped through the thick gauze. Bruce wiped a shaky hand over his face before he turned his looked at the devastated woman by his side again. His fingers searched for hers on the mattress and she clasped them, definitely assured he was running a temperature. He licked dry lips and swallowed with disorientation.  
  
“Pepper? What time…? How…?” She cupped his clammy face with her other hand and caressed the stubble forming on his cheek. From the confusion in his eyes and the slow responding of his pupils to her ministrations, she figured he was completely shot up on meds. “Shh, it’s past midnight. I just got here, Alfred called me. Try to get back to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

She pulled the sheets back up and saw him watching her through heavy-lidded eyes.  
“Shouldn’t be here, beautiful… if it’d been you… wouldn’t kno' what I’d’ve done… while…”  
His slurred mumblings made no sense to her, so she just smiled and continued to stroke his fevered cheek until he drifted off again.

When his breathing had evened out, she rose to open a window before she shed shoes and trench coat and slid onto her side of the large king-sized bed, careful not to wake him again. She leaned against the headboard, pulled her Blackberry from her handbag, and busied herself with her mails. Bruce went through various stages of delirious nightmares that night, and Pepper guided him through best way she could.

She made good use of the wet cloth to wipe down his brow and cool his forehead ever so often, thinking back to the hundreds of times Tony had gotten injured on a mission. How she had come to bear watching him suffer the consequences of wanting to do good, fighting injustice and protecting others at all costs. It had not been easy then; it definitely was not now.  
  
***

The distant sounds of traffic rose Pepper from her slumber, and she blinked in confusion at her surroundings.

She had fallen asleep propped up against the headboard, and her Blackberry had slid down next to her thigh. With a roll of stiff shoulders, she turned to her left and found Bruce still to be asleep. The cloth she had placed on his forehead had disappeared, hidden somewhere under the sheets, as he had tried to twist into another sleeping position. A quick glance at her mobile told her it was just past 9 AM.  
  
She squinted against the light and noise coming from the open window and tiptoed over to take care of the situation before it would wake him as well. When she turned back around, two open eyes stared back at her with a blank expression. “So you haven’t been a dream.” Pepper stepped back over to sit beside him on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes spotted the cloth wedged between his shoulder and cushion. 

After she had placed it back into the bowl her hand came to feel up his forehead. “If I was, I’d hope to be more pleasant than the ones you had last night.” At her compassionate voice and touch, Bruce’s brows twisted into a frown and he brushed off her hand with a slight shake of the head. “It would have been safer if you remained out of Gotham for a little longer.”

He probed his leg underneath the blanket and grimaced at its unchanged condition. Pepper saw his mood darkening further and rose in a resolute motion to collect her jacket and shoes. “I’ve experienced enough situations like this to be offended by your well-disguised concern, Bruce. I’m going to see if Alfred can get you something to eat.” With a last look at his irritable countenance, she exited the bedroom and went downstairs.

The butler was already up and running, and when she plopped onto the bar stool at the kitchen area, he pushed a cup of coffee into her direction without a word. She thanked him with a relieved sigh before she took a sip of the strong, hot beverage. Then she looked up at the elder man again. “This is not going to be easy, Alfred.” Pennyworth wiped his hands on a dishtowel before he continued to prepare a tray of breakfast.  
  
“Afraid not, Miss Potts. After all the devastating events Master Wayne had to endure the past days, we will have a long way ahead of us.”

Over toast and scrambled eggs, Alfred told her about the deaths of Rachel Dawes and Harvey Dent, the destruction of the Gotham General Hospital, and about the Batman being a wanted criminal for something he did not commit. She listened to him with a large frown plastered on her forehead, even before the butler mentioned the serious condition Bruce’s leg was in. Pepper traced an index finger along the cup, frustration evident.

“It’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t he go see a doctor as soon as possible? His leg needs immediate medical supervision.”  
Alfred gave a mild smile before he took the ready tray into his hands, about to walk upstairs.  
“Precisely what I hoped _you_ would be able to make Master Wayne realize, Madam. The body heals best together with mind and spirit.”

As Alfred went to coax Bruce into eating and getting cleaned up, she took the time to make several calls at hospitals around and tried to get a contemporary appointment. With the GCGH destroyed, all of Gotham’s hospitals were crowded with relocated patients. After a lot of trying, coercing and begging she was able to get a short-term appointment with an orthopedic surgeon and was told to come by at 11 AM.

Satisfied, Pepper finished her coffee and ate a croissant on her way upstairs before she re-entered the master bedroom. It was empty, and she listened to the distant murmurings and sound of running water from the adjacent bathroom. With swift movements, the longtime personal assistant aired out the quarters, stripped the stained bed sheets and changed them to crisp, new ones.

Afterwards, she unpacked her luggage which still stood untouched in the hallway since the previous night. Eventually, the door to the bathroom opened and a showered and clean shaven billionaire, clad in boxer shorts and t-shirt, stood in the doorway. Bruce did not even try to hide the strained expression on his face as he looked from the bed over to his fiancée.

“You’re not supposed to clean up after me Pepper, if you please. You’ll only rob Alfred of even more chances to embarrass and treat me like a six-year-old.”

He cast a glum glance at his butler who took the sullen behavior of his employer with as much dignified humor as possible before he squeezed past him and thrust a pair of crutches into Bruce’s waiting hands. They watched him hobble over to the bedside. “After witnessing your full-fledged tantrums within the past thirty minutes, I can only thank Miss Potts for her foresight. And, Master Wayne, six-year-olds _do_ behave better.”

Pepper continued her unpacking whilst trying to keep her face neutral until Bruce had sat down on the mattress with great effort and stretched out his injured leg. She peeked around the open closet door just as Alfred took the tray into his hands and was about to leave the room. “Oh, Alfred? Could you do me a favor and have the limousine ready at 10:30? Or whenever Bruce needs to leave in order to make it to St. Luke’s Hospital at 11.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw him frown, about to protest, but she kept her gaze on the relieved looking butler. “Certainly Miss Potts. Since the Lamborghini is in an equally fatal state after Master Wayne decided to use it as a buffer on Lake Street, I will gladly take him to St. Luke’s.” When Alfred had left them alone, Bruce cast her a dirty, dismayed look. It eventually motivated Pepper to come to stand in front of him.

“If you don’t do it for yourself then do it for me - Bruce, please. This need for self-condemnation has to stop.” He gave a humorless laugh and wanted to prop his elbows upon his knees, only to wince at even the slightest bending of his left leg. “You both don’t know what you’re talking about – you weren’t there! I failed… failed to protect the people and the city I care about.”

Pepper was about to reach out for him when he hung his head low in defeat. “And the Batman’s a wanted criminal now - I can’t risk some medical reports over at St. Luke’s to blow my cover after all. Wouldn’t look so good on my résumé, now would it?” She put her arms akimbo and huffed. “Now Bruce, as far as I know Alfred has a perfect…” He cut her off with a brusque gesture.

“And he told you about that ridiculous Polo-injury sham as well. Man’s out of his mind sometimes.” She bit her lip at the malicious undertone in his voice. ”Alfred’s hurting as well upon seeing you like this. Don’t be so hard on him, Bruce. We both care too much to allow you to push us away.” Pepper moved closer until she stood right between his legs and was able to run her hands through his damp hair.  
  
Bruce heaved a deep, shuddering sigh before he leaned his forehead against her sternum in a cautious motion. His hands found their way around her waist, and they stayed like that, in silent comfort, for a while. “I want to announce our engagement at the housewarming party of Wayne Manor.” Too stunned to reply at Bruce’s sudden change in topic, Pepper looked down at the crown of his head and stopped her soothing motions.  
  
The billionaire detached himself to look up into her face. His hazel eyes were calm and controlled. “I’m done hiding that part of my life from the public. Wiping the slate clean will most likely be... beneficial during times like these.”  
  
When Pepper nodded and tried to muster up a smile for him, it came out halfhearted. “You... think Bruce Wayne will be less conspicuous for being the notorious Batman if he’s no bachelor anymore? That’s a bit… hmm, how shall I put it... antiquated don't you think?” Bruce pressed his lips together in a tight line and let his forehead sink back against her torso. “That’s not how I meant it. The idea’s been on my mind for some time.”  
  
He ran his fingers over the thin fabric of her sweater; drawing unintelligible patterns on her back. “I’ll leave it up to you to think about it. If you don’t want to, then we won’t do it.” Pepper let her gaze wander out of the window front and across the gray skyline of Gotham City. If Bruce was serious about them being together in public, it meant he was done being the Batman in return - a circumstance she deeply yearned for.

After some more moments, she nodded into the silence of the bedroom and resumed her caresses. “No I think it’s a wonderful idea, Bruce. If this means no more ‘Love Boat’ headlines on The Gotham Observer, I’m game.” Her attempt at lightening the mood caused him to chuckle against her stomach which reverberated on her skin. Pepper combed her fingers through his thick mane one last time.

“... and if it means I don’t have to share you with the Batman anymore, then I really don’t care about Gotham’s gossip scene at all.”

She stepped back and went to fetch fresh underwear and clothes before she disappeared in the bathroom. The billionaire stared after her with a mild frown. He hated to have sparked hope in her that his days of donning the Batsuit were over when they were not; despite everything. Because Bruce Wayne as the Batman was the hero that Gotham deserved, but not the one it needed the very moment.

And even if the Batman was no hero, he at least would remain as the city’s silent guardian and its watchful protector, no matter what.

He wiped one hand over his face, probed the newly applied gauze bandage, and got up on the crutches to try and get dressed without help. In the end, Bruce Wayne had to relent and admit defeat; his mumbled plea for help an indirect apology to the man who had raised him. Alfred Pennyworth understood and accepted like he always did before they made their way downstairs to where the limousine was waiting.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very text-heavy chapter ahead..

When the butler returned to the penthouse alone much later, Pepper followed him into the dressing room. Alfred fetched a suitcase, propped it up upon the bed in the adjacent room and snatched the locks open. “They insisted on keeping Master Wayne there for apparent reason. He’s undergoing surgery first thing tomorrow morning and they wanted to run some tests beforehand.”

He started going back and forth between the two rooms and, with expert hands, grabbed clothes off their hangers. Without a word, Pepper took the empty toiletry bag Alfred had placed aside and made her way over to the bathroom to collect some necessities for her fiancé. One item after another disappeared within the brown leather bag. When she looked up, a shaken reflection stared right back at her from the wall-sized mirror.

“Did they tell you how bad it is?”

“Not yet, Madam. They wanted to do a MRI first to determine how bad the ligament is torn and also to look for signs of any associated injuries.”  
Alfred’s voice diminished for a moment but continued to waver over to her through the ajar door.  
“The doctors said the swelling and the pain Master Wayne is experiencing are signs of severe knee instability.”  

Pepper swallowed and looked down at Bruce’s toothbrush in her hand. Her fingers clenched around the small object before she dropped it into the bag and zipped it shut. “How long will he have to stay at the hospital after surgery? And what about post-surgical rehab?” When she walked back into the bedroom and handed Alfred the packed up bag he took it with a small smile.

“Unfortunately we don’t know about that yet either, Miss Potts. I will try to obtain as much information as possible before I get back to you later on. I do plan on staying over at the hospital tonight.” Pepper felt a twinge of jealousy. It once more convinced her that a public announcement of their engagement would be the best solution if she wanted to establish herself as the woman by Bruce's side.

Alfred packed his own, small suitcase before he informed her there was lunch prepared in the fridge and he would call as soon as he had any news on Bruce’s state of health. All alone, the huge penthouse felt cold and bleak, so Pepper tried to take her mind off all the things that could possibly go wrong during surgery and opted for a long workout at the gym instead.

Afterwards she sat down to Alfred’s homemade chicken and rice casserole and browsed through her WE email account. She dropped Lucius a mail to inform him of her return and asked him to continue working from home office for time being, because of reasons. Lucius’ answer was quick and confirmed her sneaking suspicion Fox not only knew about Bruce being the Batman but also that he had been informed of Pepper being in the loop.

With a shake of the head, she harrumphed, crossed her legs and placed the laptop aside. Now that she had time to reflect on everything, she recollected some situations which might have led her to get behind things earlier. She marveled at Bruce’s audacity to tell her about his allergies after being doused by her pepper spray. At least she knew how he had found her in that hospital back then.

In any case, Pepper at least was sure the “Love Boat Incident” had indeed been nothing but a charade to conceal whatever stunt Bruce had pulled off underneath his cowl in Hong Kong. She looked at her watch and realized it was past 4 PM. Equipped with a jacket she made her way over to a coffee shop around the corner where she spent a good few hours, not wanting to be all alone at the penthouse to stare at her mobile.

When she eventually got back, dusk was beginning to fall and she plopped down in front of the large television for the rest of the evening, ate bits and pieces from the well-stocked fridge and zapped through the channels to look for any kind of distraction on screen. Around 10 PM, Alfred finally called and let her know Bruce was off to have anti-inflammatory measures taken.

The doctors had wanted to postpone surgery at first; saying a reconstruction of the torn ACL would not be performed until the inflamed area could cool down. Their stubborn billionaire, however, had been insistent on getting the one and a half hours of surgery over with. Bruce would even be able to leave hospital soon after, provided he took things slow and had rehab to restore motion and strength to the weakened joints.

“I have not thanked you yet, Miss Potts. If it was not for you Master Wayne would probably still be…”  
Pepper heard a door being opened and smiled at the familiar voice rumbling in the background.  
“…he probably would be _what_ , Alfred? Give me that phone before you start breaking out the awkward childhood stories.”

After some rustling, his voice came through, and she leaned back into the couch to stroke the upholstery with her palm.  
“Bruce. I wish I could be there but I guess it’s not an option at the moment.”  
He seemed to shuffle around some more before answering her.

“No it’s not, but this will change. And as soon as I’m done, me and my medical reports are going to take a hike first thing in the morning.”  
The murmured comment from Alfred in the back went past her unheard, and Pepper watched the muted TV show with one eye.  
“Don’t worry about that right now. I’m expecting a call first thing after surgery tomorrow, you hear me, Mister Polo player?”

Bruce agreed and Pepper pictured his trademark smirk. They hung up wishing each other a good night, and she turned the volume of the TV back up again. She threw her phone aside and snuggled underneath the blanket. Exhausted from the events of the previous night, Pepper then drifted off around 11 PM to the soothing sounds of a sitcom from the Nineties.

Her vivid dreams circled around the Batman and how he loomed above Bruce in a dark alley; huge, menacing and with gleaming, bared teeth. The creature from her dream forced Pepper to watch as it attacked Bruce with a menacing, electric drill weaponry. When the buzzing sounds from her dream penetrated through her light slumber, the fair-haired young women rose with a start and her heart beating soundly in her chest.

It took her several moments to realize where she was until she realized everything had just been a dream. She then identified the awkward sound as her mobile phone which continued to vibrate around on the glass table in front. After two futile attempts, she managed to roll over and grasp for the small item. Fearing another call from the hospital, one look at the number on the screen told her otherwise.  
  
She did not even try to hide her surprise.

“… Tony?!”

“Hiya Pep, how ya doin’? Did I wake you up? You sound sleepy.” His cheeky voice brought her back to the many times he had called her way past midnight only to chat with her about something stupid, naughty, or both. “Mmpf. What’s with you calling me on a Thursday night – no wingding at the ‘Voyeur’?” Tony gave a disappointed sounding sigh.  
  
“Oh puh-lease, this lame snoozefest. Gotta fight the urge of screaming ‘boring alert’ so often, it’s not even funny anymore, believe me.” He then paused to chug something before he was back with her. “Ah but you know that already, don’t’cha? No? Anyway, listen, I’ve just been thinking bout you and thought: Hey, why not give my fav PA a call and see what she’s up to?” Tony then made some tsking noises as if he berated himself.

“… ex! Ex! Ex-PA I mean, of course. Sorry bout that. I’m no good with ex-anything’s. You’re the first ex I called willingly. Kinda funny huh? Erm, how often did I just say ex?” When her utter confusion at his motor-mouth monologue did not warrant a respond, Tony cleared his throat and let the topic slide. “Anyhoo Pepper, been a while. We wanted to stay in touch, right? Let’s catch up now. You first. Shoot.”  
  
Despite her initial bafflement, she had a vague inkling about the very purpose of his call.

“Wait a minute, _you’re_ calling _me_ and expect to be entertained?”

“Yup.”

She snorted at his incorrigible ways. It made him snicker, and Pepper wondered why she had not thought about it earlier.

“Tony - are you drunk?”

“Nah-ah… uh, hmm, yea... maybe. Only a li’l though. Neglect-worthy little. I just wanted to talk, you know?”  
She shifted on the couch to lay down more comfortable on her back.  
“Okay, talk to me. You’re in Malibu?”

“Yeah, in the shop. Psst, hey – lemme tell ya a secret: I’m workin’ on something big, Pep. Really big, neat stuff. Wish I could show you… but: You’re not here.” It was Pepper’s turn to sigh. “I’m sure it is incredibly spectacular, Tony - even from over here.”

“Hmpfh. Nothing’s ever spectacular these days. Really though - why aren’t'cha here? We’re not hanging anymore, and I miss that.” Her heart gave a small tug at the child-like sadness evident in his voice. “I... do miss that, too. Well, to be honest, I only miss those rare times when I wouldn’t have to fear you’d get your butt shot out of the sky, or give me a heart attack otherwise.”

Tony chuckled and Pepper smiled into the night at the comforting, well-known sound.  
“Betcha never have to worry about those things with Brucie-Bruce. Worst thing he brings home is a paper-cut thumb or an ink-stained collar.”  
Pepper’s smile vanished to be replaced with a frown, and she swallowed hard.

“I…. yeah well, if you say so, Tony.”

“Just did. Seriously Pep, I mean, okay, he knows how to ride a motorbike, the Lambo’s kinda nifty, and yadda yadda yadda, - but he’s got no Iron Man armor, right? Riiiight! I’m so much cooler, you have to admit.” At that point, Pepper nearly burst out into laughter. She caught herself the last moment. “I’m sorry - _much cooler?_ Geez, Stark, what are you – fifteen? You sure you’ve done homework for Monday already?”

“Whoa, Potts; that was an insult. I’m a genius, you know? And hurt. Butthurt. Gotta apologize for that one.”  
Incensed, she pursed her lips.  
“I definitely do not.”

“You _do!”_  
“Do _not!”_  
“Do too!!”

Pepper placed a hand above her eyes and groaned in a warning tone. “Alright, alright. Forget about it, I’m trying to cope. Sheesh, my poor heart. Now, for compensation: When are you going to come pay them bots and me a visit?” She sighed as the playful mood dropped to a more serious note and let the hand from her face sink to rest upon her chest. “I don’t know. It's actually not a very good time for… things like that.”

”Why not? You know you can trust me. I’m a perfect gentleman. Ah shucks - if anything, bring the guy along if ya must; we’ll have DUM-E entertain him. Or he can gawk at the suits, for all I care. C’mon… please!?” Tony sounded more insistent with each sentence, and Pepper squirmed on the sofa. She figured she had to give him something true to keep the biggest lie hidden in her heart.

“Can’t, I’m sorry. Bruce is at the hospital at the moment; he’s undergoing knee surgery tomorrow. So no trips to anywhere in the near future.” Tony was silent for a moment on the other end. Pepper was not sure at first, but then she heard him pouring himself another glass of whatever beverage was at his mercy that night. “Sucks indeed. What happened? Biking's not really his forte after all?”  
  
Despite his gloating undertone, he at least made an effort to sound neutral.

“Funny, Stark. And even though it’s none of your business - it was a… Polo accident.” That time, however, Tony Stark did not even try to hide the bubbling laughter which escaped his lips. Pepper bit on the inside of her cheek. “Boy oh boy, that’s priceless! ‘Gotham City’s Stallion being thrown off his high horse’. Wonder why that never made headlines in those twee little newspapers of yours.”

Before Pepper could get angry at her former boss, the true meaning of his sentence settled in her mind. “Wait a sec - since when do _you_ read Gotham newspapers, Anthony Edward Stark?” Embarrassed silence on the other end ensued. “Uh, yeah, well, I... I don’t!” Unbeknownst to him, Pepper cocked an elegant eyebrow. ”Yes, you do.”

“Do not.”  
“You _do_!”  
“Do _not_!”

“If you’re starting this again, I…” Tony cut her off, harrumphed and huffed loudly into the speaker. “Well, I _may_ or may not have had Jarvis tell me about them. Once or twice. I gotta stay informed on what’s going on in the world after all. I’m Iron Man!” Pepper rolled her eyes so hard, it almost made her eyeballs hurt. “ _That’s_ like your standard excuse for everything, right?” In a heartbeat, his smugness was back in place.  
  
“Yup. And it’s such a lovely way to end any kind of argument. Really is.”  
  
She pointedly cleared her throat and Tony understood despite his intoxicated state.  
  
“Anyways, I remember reading bout some crazy dude who's cross-dressing as a vampire or somethin'. Heard he’s going round at night and beats bad guys to death with… oh, I forgot. Haven’t really bothered to read the rest to be honest. His feather boa probably. What’s up there at your place, for reals? Is Gotham in dire need of a hearty dose of manly Iron Goodness, or what?”

At that, Pepper could almost see the light bulb above Tony’s head through the line. "Hey, that’s actually it! Why didn’t I think of it earlier – I’ll come over and pay _you_ a visit. Bring the suit and have some fun chasing all those costumed weirdos around. Deal?”

Pepper had to intervene fast before everything would go downhill from there on. “No deal, Stark. You listen to me? No deal at all. You and your suits stay right where you are. If not, don’t bother calling me again, like ever. You got that, laser brain?” Flabbergasted Tony let her words sink in, and Pepper took the rare chance to rant on.

“And besides - the guy you’re making fun of has saved this city more than a dozen times. And he’s called the Batman. And he could definitely give Iron Man a hard time!” The last sentence slipped from her mouth before she had the chance to bite her tongue. She scrunched up her face, braced herself for his comeback, and got it no two seconds later as a merry chuckle fit.

“Very cute, Potts. Gee, I miss having you around. Your own Nicolas Roldan should watch out if you keep getting attached to the masked guys saving the world.” Pepper frowned into the night. “Nick… who?” “World’s most famous Polo player. No wonder you don’t know him when King B keeps falling off his horses. No championships for _him_ in the near future, that much's certain.”

“This conversation is taking a turn that _really_ makes me want to go to sleep, Tony, you know?”  
His answer was a loud yawn straight into her ear. It was contagious, and Pepper could not help but yawning along with him.  
“Hey, I was just kidding here. It’s actually quite early yet, not even midnight! What's this… you’re getting soft on me there, Potts?”

With solemn eyes, Pepper held out her left hand, spread the fingers wide and gazed at the engagement ring.  
“Maybe I am. Times have changed, Tony, and so have we.”  
Her serious voice eventually stopped his lighthearted banter and he sighed audibly.

”Tell me bout it. Heck, don’t'cha think I wouldn’t know? I get reminded of it every damn day.”  
The switch from Tony the amusing drunk to Tony the depressed drunk took less than a couple of seconds.  
“Honestly, though, tell me - are you happy, Pep? Right now; this very moment?”

She frowned into the dark of the night and against the bluish tinge from the TV that illuminated the room.  
“Pardon me? What… kind of question is that now?”  
“Just like I said. Are you happy? There’s only a yes or no. It’s quite simple.”  
  
Her laugh came out more bitter than Pepper intended it to be. When had it ever been quite simple between them? “With Bruce in the hospital and us not knowing the outcome of the surgery, this doesn’t really qualify for happiness, now does it?” Tony mulled over her words for a moment. Pepper figured it was not the answer he wanted to hear, and she refused to ask him in return.

“I… see. Hey, if anything, we could fix him up with some of Stark Biotech’s finest. There’s something going on, which I haven’t had the time to look into yet, but an old friend of mine, Maya, recently told me about something that’s gonna rock our socks, so…” Pepper’s ears perked up at the mention of a certain Maya. Her brain rattled down possible faces to go with the name, but she came up empty.  
  
“Yes, well, maybe I can convince him that… _Polo_ isn't something he should pursue any further in the future.”  
“Prolly better, yeah. Hey, Pep?”  
“Yes, Tony?”  
  
“Are we ever gonna be friends again - you know… like before?”  
She closed her eyes at the sincerity in his voice. It hurt, but she did not know why.  
“I don’t know. I think we might be getting there. Slowly, but…”  
  
He made smacking noises with his lips as he pondered that answer. “Bruce Wayne's a goddamn lucky bastard, you may tell him that.” Before she could open her mouth again, Tony quickly interfered. “On second thought... nah, don’t. Anyways - gotta go now before DUM-E trashes all of my precious progress from the past coupla hours. Talk to ya soon?”

“Sure. Oh, and Tony…”  
“Yeah?”  
His voice sounded so eager and hopeful that Pepper almost wanted to cry.  
  
“Thank you for calling tonight. This… really meant a lot.”

“Anytime, Pep. Anytime.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we deviate from any previous, movie-related plotline(s). Time to give Pepper and Bruce some room for.. development.

Gotham City, August 2010

 

Surgery went well, and Bruce was able to leave St. Luke’s hospital on the same evening. He spent the upcoming days bound to the bed or the couch, and insisted on his fiancée and his butler to stop fussing around him. When Pepper was about to get a qualified physiotherapist in to help him quicken the healing process, Bruce countered with an unforeseen, fierce refusal.

It resulted in their second, real argument after the Hong Kong incident, and had them not speaking to each other for a day and a half, until Pepper made the first move and went to look for him. She found him outside on the terrace in the evening, on a recliner with a blanket thrown over his legs. Bruce was staring up into the darkening sky and tensed at first contact of her hands on his shoulders.

The young woman meanwhile felt bad about the things she had thrown at him earlier. How hurt he had looked after she had accused him of being egoistic and uncaring. Her hands lingered on his broad shoulders and started to massage the taut muscles through his thin black t-shirt. He gave no reaction whatsoever to her ministrations.

“Why don’t you come inside – it’s getting cold out here.”

When there was no reply, Pepper hunkered down to squeeze herself onto the edge of the recliner to get a better glimpse at his grave countenance. Careful not to come near his bad leg, she inched closer, pulled her legs up and cuddled against his chest. His forearms felt cold to the touch and she rubbed a gentle hand across them. He still had not moved, and she stopped and grimaced into the twilight.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”  
From the corner of her eyes she saw his Adam’s apple bob twice before he shifted and put his left arm around her shoulder in a hug.  
“No, I just…”

His voice trailed off into the quiet of the evening, but Pepper did not urge him. Instead she nestled against him and tucked her head underneath his chin. After a couple of minutes, Bruce heaved a deep breath and clenched his fingers around her arm. She winced at the unintentional force he gripped it with, but after a brief moment, the pressure lessened. He stroked the area with his thumb, almost apologetic.

“The funeral for Rachel is in two days.”  
With a nod against his chest she traced the contours of his knuckles with her finger.  
“You should attend it. You and Alfred.”

The recliner moved as he leaned his head back.  
“No, I shouldn’t. Not after I failed her.”  
Pepper pushed herself up and looked at him, incredulous.

“How can you say such a thing? You told me she was your best friend. And you weren’t responsible for her death, you did everything you could!”  
He cast her a look full of gloom before he pulled her against him once more and stared back up into the sky.  
“Apparently everything wasn’t enough.”

Pepper placed a hand upon his chest and felt his steady heartbeat underneath her palm.  
“You... loved her… like she loved you. Right?”  
Too stunned to respond, Bruce only swallowed. Before the silence got too uncomfortable, Pepper voiced her inner conclusion.

“You don’t have to say it; I figured something along these lines by the time I saw you two interacting at the fundraiser.”  
Bruce closed his eyes and tightened his grip around her slim form.  
“Pepper, I…”

She started to stroke his chest. Her voice remained affectionate and gentle.  
“It’s okay, I understand. Everybody comes with a past, and we wouldn’t be who we are without the people who stood by our sides, so...”  
Pepper Potts then raised her chin upwards to press her lips against the juncture of his neck, where she could feel his pulse flutter.

”It doesn’t change anything between us. Attend the funeral. Give yourself time to grieve and free yourself from the guilt. I’ll be here, waiting for you.” He gave a deep sigh and drew her closer yet again. It caused the blanket on his legs to fall to the floor.

“I don’t deserve you, you know?”  
With a sad smile against his chest Pepper gazed over to where the glass balustrade mirrored the indoor lights from behind.  
“That couldn’t be further from the truth.”  
  
Bruce rested his chin on top of her head and stared ahead.  
”Where do we go from here?”  
She mulled over his question as they listened to the sounds of police sirens echoing through the night. Then Pepper knew the answer.

“By leaving Gotham for a while. Just you and me... and the ocean, preferably. Italy?”  
He smirked into her hair.  
“Knew I didn’t buy that yacht for nothing when I met you.”

The woman by his side allowed an equally small smile to play upon her lips.  
“And since I never really got around to using that Jacuzzi the last time…”  
They stayed intertwined for a little while longer, until Pepper was able to persuade him to come inside.

The rest of the evening was spent in quiet reminiscence.

***

Two weeks after the funeral for Rachel Dawes, Bruce Wayne presented a well-selected vacation itinerary to his fiancée.

He had decided upon going to Capri for a ten day vacation aboard the yacht, combined with a stay at a luxury hotel of his choice. When Pepper learned Bruce had favored the Cipriani in Venice, but switched to the Capri Palace Hotel & Spa for matters of yachting, she was glad. The Cipriani reminded her of that one stay back in the days, which Tony still looked back on with too much fondness.

Because their trusted butler also deserved some time off, the couple parted ways with Alfred in Florence before they flew over to Naples on a quiet Sunday morning, mid-August. The 'Sovereign' already anchored at the Italian marina, and Bruce surprised Pepper and the crew with his wish of commandeering the vessel to Capri by himself. When he lowered himself into the large leather seat at the pilot house, she stood and watched.

“You better buckle up, I want to see what I’m dealing with here.”  
Bruce motioned for her to have a seat next to him and Pepper complied with a grin.  
“Feeling the need for speed again, Mister Wayne?”

He gave her a mischievous smile in return before he grabbed the throttle lever and pushed it forward. Bruce put his other hand on the steering wheel as the ship’s engines whined up underneath their seats. She refrained from asking him how and when he obtained his skill after he had brought the ship out of the harbor area with expertise. “Bear with me. Until I get to drive again, this will have to make do.”

After she had kept him company for ten minutes, Pepper was assured he knew what he was doing. She left him to his latest favorite toy to freshen up downstairs in the master bathroom. With care she removed her makeup and applied sunscreen on her face. A buzzing sound from the adjourning room then caught her attention. There was a message from Tony on her mobile, consisting of a polo pony picture.

Pepper marveled at his audacity, shook her head and deleted it.  
Since it was Tony Stark, things did not end at one horse-related message.  
Several more pictures followed in a steady rhythm until one of them had a simple sentence written underneath:

 _‘Got all the time and the ponies in the world until you reply’_  
She plopped on the bed with a resigned sigh as nimble fingers flew across the keypad.  
_‘That’s called blackmail. What do you want?’_

_'Knowing when you’re done playing nurse to Wayne-the-Stallion and the booboo on his knee. Come to Malibu!’_

Her mobile phone got placed aside until she had pulled her wrinkled shirt over her head. She snatched a loose fitted cotton dress from the open suitcase next to her and slipped into it before she got rid of her cropped pants. As she grabbed the device again, she could only harrumph at his impossible manners.

 _‘No can do, Stark. Stop nagging. Bye.’_  
With that, Pepper switched her mobile off and threw it back into her handbag.  
She slipped out of her cork wedges and padded up barefooted to get comfortable on deck.

Under Bruce’s custody, the 'Sovereign' had dashed through the deep blue water of the Tyrrhenian Sea and made the near twenty miles across the ocean in less than forty-five minutes. Once Capri’s shoreline came in sight, Wayne left the docking process to the ships crew. He found his fiancée relaxing on the huge couch element at the bow of the ship, one arm behind her head as she flipped through a magazine.

When his shadow cast above her, Pepper squinted upwards.  
“Living up to your expectations?”  
Bruce bent over to place a kiss upon her one elbow that was closest to him.  
  
“Well, you could be less dressed, but I like what I see so far.”

Her nose wrinkled in playful indignation as she craned her neck to watch him walk around and sit beside her. Since surgery about a month ago, Bruce still limped heavily. Against better judgment, he had been insistent on ditching the crutches right from the beginning, even though he had difficulties to walk without support. Pepper wisely kept quiet, not intending to ruin the vacation that had not even started yet.

“My, my and here I was, thinking Bruce Wayne and bad innuendo didn’t mix. I was talking about the yacht, wise guy.”  
He gave her an eye-crinkling smile and leaned into the couch, stretched out his legs and extended his arms on the backrest.  
“Oh, _that_. Definitely not bad, but I want to take the Jet Ski out for a test drive while we’re at it.”

Pepper shuffled nearer until she sat propped up against his side and put the magazine away. She drew her legs close to her torso and his hand instantly went to cup her knee and stroked the smooth skin. “You’re not supposed to be straining the ligaments so soon after surgery - we both know that.” He did not give an answer and stared ahead as the captain maneuvered the yacht into its designated berth.

His brief bout of disgruntlement passed as quick as it had come. “Check-in is at 3, which gives us a little time to, erm…” He circled his index finger on her bare knee cap. “… learn more about the flexibilities of my ligaments, and the… uh… expectations that come with it.” Pepper shot him a look full of mock indignation before she got up from the couch and held out a hand for him to grasp.  
  
“I think I have unleashed a ravishing monster in you.”  
  
They went below and checked into the Capri Palace Hotel & Spa at 4:30 later that day.

As expected, the hotel was exquisite, and their 760 square feet Penthouse Suite with private pool left no wishes whatsoever. They ate breakfast outside on their terrace upon a generous view of the Gulf of Naples and Ischia Island each morning, and enjoyed romantic dinners at the two Michelin star restaurant L’Olivo. After three days of sheer bliss, sunbathing, swimming and relaxing, Pepper and Bruce began to feel at ease.

Minor setbacks were the heavy bouts of muscle cramping which plagued Bruce day and night, but he fought those down with the help of meditation practices and painkillers. He hid them well from his female companion, to avoid ruining their vacation and making her worry. 

While Bruce was unable to engage in most activities, he urged Pepper on to enjoy her fair share of exploring the hotel’s spa and outdoor facilities, and relented to his daily sets of pushups whenever he was alone.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when you think you're on vacation..

Capri, August 2010

On their fourth night out, they explored the island’s nightlife scene and visited the Panta Rei.  
  
The well-known, stylish venue was located in the center of Capri, just steps away from the famous Piazzetta. The maître d’ got out of his way to ensure Bruce and Pepper got a table outside on the terrace from where they had a fabulous view of the Bay of Naples. Bruce thanked him with his trademark billionaire smile, exchanged a few pleasantries in fluent Italian, and left Pepper to regard him over the rim of her menu.

“You never cease to amaze me, Mister Wayne. Is there anything you cannot do?”  
Bruce raised an eyebrow as he recognized his own words and frowned in feigned concentration.  
“Ballet. My Plié has always been dreadful. Even before I trashed my knee.”

Pepper could not help but to look down to where he had stretched out his leg underneath the table; the comedy of the situation lost to her. Bruce placed the menu aside and covered her hand with his, urging her to meet his gaze with a rueful smile. “I should probably add ‘keeping the mood light’ to that list.” Before she could respond, a waiter approached their table, and Bruce placed their order for Italian antipasti and beverages.

Pepper leaned back and enjoyed hearing him interact in Italian tongue once more, while her eyes roamed over his appearance. He wore a slim fitted polo shirt in navy, off-white colored chinos and a pair of boat shoes. She had chosen a printed summery dress with a cinched waist and nude ankle strap heels. From the looks of people around, they were by far the most attractive couple that night.

Over the course of the evening, the music transitioned from quiet background lounge style to the dance-oriented crowd.

The couple sat, fingers entwined upon the table and watched as people started to live up the dance floor. When the music did not drown their sentences, Bruce squeezed Pepper's arm and motioned for her to lean in closer. “I spoke with the site manager at the Manor before we left. Reopening could take place on the date we picked, but there'd still be some reconstruction work.”

The billionaire watched his fiancée crinkle her brows and stroked the back of her hand in a soothing manner. She grimaced before she reached out for her handbag to make use of her lipstick. “When did he tell you? I thought they were done with the upper floors. That’s bad news.” Bruce Wayne nodded along but wisely held his tongue about the true reasons for the delay. It had something to do with the static of the southeast corner.

Pepper threw the small cylindrical object back into her handbag. “I guess we should postpone the party for another couple of days then; no halfhearted rush. Thank god no invitations have been sent out. When it comes to renovations, the devil truly is in the details.” Bruce agreed without complaint and let his eyes wander around. His gaze went from the ocean to the entrance area of the bar until he blinked; perplexed.  
  
Bruce squeezed Pepper’s hand, urging her to stop rummaging through her purse.  
"Speak of the devil…”  
She followed his line of vision, and an audible gasp escaped her lips.  
  
The white slacks combined with a simple gray v-neck shirt and a silver suit jacket on top looked flawless.  
The dark mop of hair was styled in a fashionable way, and the trademark goatee was trimmed to perfection.  
No matter how absurd it seemed; it was undeniably Tony Stark and he was undeniably on a roll.

Bruce cast his fiancée a disdainful look that spoke volumes. “Please tell me you didn’t.” Pepper, who still gaped at the sight of her former boss in full disbelief, shook her head no. Both of them watched Tony enter the club area in his trademark, swagger. The crowd, male and female alike, threw glances his way as he sashayed onwards to the music, hips swaying and teeth gleaming at everyone who passed him by.

The redhead frowned in confusion and immediately thought back to their texted conversation a couple of days ago. “No… my mobile’s turned off, there’s no way he could have tracked me down this time.” Bruce’s eyebrows rose several inches and almost disappeared in his hairline. “ _What?_ He does _what_ _?_ Why am I hearing that only now?” Pepper bit her lip at the slip of her tongue and stroked his fingers.  
  
“No, no – he... doesn’t. It was... an option for safety measures, back then, when I was working for him, so this… this must be a coincidence?” Her tone sounded as doubtful as she looked, brows furrowed in growing distress. Tony was still scanning the crowd when his head turned into their direction. His posture indicated equal perplexity as he craned his neck to peek around the dancing people.  
  
Stark pulled his tinted shades a few inches off his nose as if to verify his suspicion from afar. When he seemed certain, he pushed them back up with a wide grin. Bruce Wayne pressed his lips together tight. “Great. Just great.” His mumblings were directed at himself, but Pepper’s eyes began to switch between him and Tony, who just then gave them a cheerful wave and started to stroll into their direction.  
  
“Please take it easy. I’m sure there’s a good explanation to this… and the evening's been so nice.”  
Her pleading voice fell on deaf ears as Bruce Wayne all but glowered at Tony Stark who stood at their table.  
“Well, well, well, fancy that! Small world, isn’t it? Heyyyy Pepper – good to see you! Wow, you look absolutely _fan-tas-tic_!”  
  
Not acknowledging Wayne, Tony spread his arms open wide. By instinct, Pepper rose from her chair to get engulfed in a bear hug. The sound of Bruce clearing his throat eventually got Tony to release her. She brushed down her dress, sat back down and looked at her fiancé with an almost contrite expression. “Ahem - yes, Tony, wow! Yeah, fancy that indeed. What…what are you doing here for heaven’s sake?”  
  
There was an awkward moment during which Wayne mustered Stark with a wary glance whilst Tony only had eyes for her. Pepper then looked at Bruce; that way urging Tony to do the same. “... I mean, from what we’ve gathered, Capri’s nightlife scene is rather… picturesque, right, Bruce?” Tony cast Bruce a glorious, fake smile which the Gotham billionaire returned; albeit less toothy, less convincing, and more of a scowl.  
  
“Yeah, I could’ve told ya this place’s the only one worth going to round here. Next time you're going somewhere, just ask me first, no prob.”  
  
Bruce muttered something under his breath that Pepper identified as 'Like hell', but Tony had thankfully not heard it over the loud music. He continued to prance around in front of their table, stealing glanced at the entrance. After a while, Bruce mustered up enough irritation to give the other man an exasperated glance. “You’re expecting company?” Tony cast him an evil eye back.  
  
Before he even considered gracing Wayne with an answer, the person he was waiting for appeared on the floor, looking around. Pepper mustered the young brunette from afar and wondered if she had seen her before. It turned out the former personal assistant was unable to place her in Tony’s endless list of female acquaintances over the years.

Something about the woman was different from his usual bad taste in shallow swimsuit models and inflated, bleach-blonde playboy bunny stars, however. She was pretty, but more of a natural kind. Tony waved at her and threw her a broad grin once she had stepped up next to him. “Gee, bout time you got rid of that call. I was seriously starting to feel neglected here.”  
  
He nudged her shoulder and leaned in close in a playfully attempt to invade her personal space. The woman just cast him a deadpan expression. “Your neediness truly is unprecedented, Stark.” She gave a throaty laugh to show how very much unfazed she was by his behavior and gave the couple at the table a warm smile instead. “Hi, Maya Hansen, nice to meet you.”

Polite as always, Bruce rose from his chair and shook her hand, before Pepper did the same as they introduced themselves. She, however, remained sitting as her eyes switched back and forth between the long-haired woman with the intelligent brown eyes and a gum-popping Tony. Maya then turned to face her company. “Now where’s our table? This place is crowded - didn’t you say you made reservations?”  
  
Tony made a dismissive gesture with his hand that told everybody, especially Pepper, he most certainly had not. “Ah, trivialities.” A shrewd grin then flittered across his handsome features. “Hey, let’s just get another couple of chairs up here – that's gonna be fun!” Tony glanced at the people him, pleased with his suggestion. Maya threw the couple a questioning look.

“… but only if that’s okay with you…?”

When Pepper glanced at Bruce, she saw faint resignation in his eyes. He gave a curt nod paired with a shrug and looked past her, into the dark of the night. Pepper hurried to make an inviting gesture, and in less then five minutes, the four of them sat together. She made sure to stay by Bruce’s side, with Maya in front of her. It left Tony the chair at the head of the table, opposite from the other billionaire.

Once seating arrangements were settled, an awkward silence erupted. Pepper felt the need to try and break the ice. "Now for real, Tony - how did you know we'd be here?" She deliberately used plural form. The genius inventor leaned back and hinged his arms wide over the backrest of his chair. "What makes you think I did? Can't a guy like me just enjoy a leisure European vacation?"  
  
At both her and Bruce's judging glances he amended with a shrug and a tilt of his head. "I, for one, would've preferred to stay at the Cipriani - remember that one, Pep? Ooh, the memories." Bruce's eyes narrowed to slits, but he kept quiet and took a sip of his ginger ale instead. Pepper knew fully well what Tony was up to.  
  
"Ah, you mean that one time where you've puked from the terrace of the penthouse into the petunias at five in the morning? Yes, so precious." She scored by making the table laugh; he took it as lightheartedly as she knew he would, and cocked his head. "For reals tho: Maya's got a med con in Naples, so I thought - tag along and make sure she has some fun, with all those boring guys in white.”  
  
Tony then drummed his index fingers on the desktop and twisted around.  
"Now, what's a guy gotta do to get some decent drinks round here?"  
Pepper ignored him, curious about the other woman’s background, and looked at her.  
  
"Med con? Are you working as a doctor, Miss Hansen?” Maya gave a genuine smile and shook her head no. “Oh, I’m not working in a hospital if that’s what you mean; I’m more involved in research matters and such. Simple lab works if you will.” Even Bruce perked up at that. It bewildered him to no end how smart women like Pepper and Maya Hansen willingly chose to hang out with an egomaniac like Stark for longer periods of time.

Just then, the man in question piped up; his attention split between signaling for a waiter and participating in the discussion. Tony’s hand came to rest atop Maya’s upper arm and he gave it an affectionate little thump with his fist. “Ah c’mon, _Doctor_ Hansen, you’re an authority on genetic and nanotech reprogramming, don’t sell yourself short here.” Maya waved him off, and Bruce hid a cynical snort.  
  
The Gothamite then decided it was time to put an end to the obnoxious one-man show. “I take it you’re attending the BIO Europe conference then, Miss Hansen?” All eyes came to rest on him; curious at the first words Bruce Wayne had spoken since their table had gotten company. The young doctor threw him a look full of pleasant surprise before she nodded with vigor.

“Why yes! Are you attending as well, Mister Wayne?”  
His outward reaction spoke of modesty.  
“My company’s hosting a couple of workshops and panel discussions. Nothing major.”

Maya Hansen seemed intrigued. Her focus of interest switched from Stark to Wayne. “Which area of expertise is your company focusing on, if I may ask?” Tony meanwhile continued to fidget in his seat, annoyed at the non-existent service at Panta Rei. Bruce looked at her as he extended his left leg under the table in a slow, unobtrusive movement to ease the pressure he was starting to feel.  
  
Pepper still noticed him shift, and immediately knew he was in pain. “This year’s focus is on cancer immunotherapy and personalized oncology, if I’m not mistaken. You see, on vacation, my mind tends to keep up even less with business-related matters at hand. I’m sure you understand.” He gave an apologetic smile and cast his fiancée a smoldering glance, to which she responded by placing her hand on his.  
  
“Now this is it! I’m gonna get us something to drink, I’m starved. Maya – Mojito?”  
  
Tony sprung up from his chair and glanced at her. After Maya had nodded, he looked into Pepper’s direction. His eyes briefly flickered down to their entwined hands. “You guys? Martini? Scotch? Milk?” Having seen the bout of insecurity flittering across Stark’s face, Bruce took extra pleasure in treading Pepper’s fingers through his. He shook his head no with a forced smile on his lips, but Tony did not relent.  
  
“Hey c’mon now. My treat. Choose whatever you like; my wallet can handle it. Don’t tell me you’re on a diet! No liquid calories? Teetotalism?” Before Pepper felt obliged to answer for Bruce, the Gotham billionaire looked Tony square in the eye. “Which part of 'no' didn’t you understand?” A clipped undertone crept into his voice.  Pepper caught Tony’s attention before he formed a not-so-charming retort.  
  
“You’re right, Bruce - drinks and meds after your surgery really don’t mix. I’d say we’ll stay with our current choice then. Thanks, though, Tony.” She gave her former boss a defusing smile and held his eyes until their silent communication ended on a peaceful note. Stark clapped his hands together. “Gotcha. Be right back.” They watched him saunter off to the bar and disappear within the tightly packed dancing crowd.

Once more, uncomfortable silence kicked in, until Maya made an internal decision.  
“Would you two excuse me for a second as well?”  
Bruce and Pepper nodded and watched her worm her way over to the restrooms.

When she was out of earshot, Pepper cast her fiancé an apprehensive glance. His eyes met hers, and upon seeing the strained expression on his face, Pepper cursed herself for exposing Bruce to yet another overdose of Tony Stark-ism. “We’ll leave soon; your leg hurts and this doesn’t need to turn into another round of you two butting heads. It’s as awful for me as it is for you, believe me.”

He did not say a word and leaned over to kiss her instead. Stunned Pepper kept her eyes open; confused at his rare display of open affection in public. Maybe being around Tony Stark brought out hidden sides of Bruce Wayne she did not yet know about. Still, she felt uncomfortable, as Bruce seemed to have slipped into what was his own playboy mode; a role very different from how he was in private.

“Why no, the evening’s just started. I’m fine, and we’re not going to be scared off by your former boss. Despite his big ego, this table’s still big enough for four.” Something was not quite right about the way he spoke, smiled and acted all suave, but Pepper could not pinpoint what it was. For the moment, she decided to play along with his charade, nodded, and released his hand to reach for her glass.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor schmexy stuff towards the end.

When she looked back around, Pepper saw Tony making his way back to their table, drinks in hand.  
  
He slid into his seat and placed the beverage for Maya aside. Not bothering to wait for her return, he raised his glass to no one in particular and took a big gulp of his Scotch before clicking his tongue. “I’m gone two minutes and you guys already managed to scare Maya off? That's a sad new record.” Neither Bruce nor Pepper commented, but Tony did not even seem to mind.  
  
He started to swirl around the ice cubes in his tumbler and looked as if something was bothering him. “Hey Pep - why Capri of all places? I think we agree that nothing beats a stay at the Cipriani around this part of the world.” Before Pepper was able to answer, Bruce casually leaned back in his seat and threw the other billionaire a cool glance. “Too mainstream. The Amalfi Coast is far more inviting for sailing.”

Tony continued the circling motion with his hand and watched the cubes clink against each other. “Huh. If any city knows about boats, it's Venice.” Bruce only smirked at that, a fact Tony missed out on since he avoided eye contact. “Sure, if we’re talking about anything smaller than 300 feet. Unfortunately, that’s where the Cipriani's docking specs are lacking. Never experienced that problem yourself?”  
  
Tony raised his head and sized him up. He seemed uncertain as to what Wayne was hinting at; but if it angered him, he hid his emotion well. Bruce then prodded on. “Hm, you’re not into yachting then I take it.” With a glance at Pepper, who witnessed their strangled conversation in silence, a glum Tony shook his head no and took another sip of his scotch. The glass was almost empty.

“Nah. Why would I need a boat when I can be in the suit? Nothing beats that feeling.”  
  
The response felt lame to Bruce's ears, and he could not help but digging a little deeper. “Oh, you’re probably right. But, one does tan more easily on a yacht – right, my dear?” He purposely took her hand again, stroked her fingers with his thumb and gave her a perfectly trained, fake smile. “Oh, reminds me of which: We really need to break in the Jacuzzi tomorrow.”  
  
Pepper had never felt more caught between a rock and a hard place. She glanced sideways at an unusually quiet Tony Stark, who sniffed before he finished his Scotch in one gulp and all but slammed the glass back on the table. From the corner of her eye, she saw a faint sneer flicker across Bruce’s lips. The two men were so deeply engrossed in their mind games, that only Pepper noticed Maya Hansen return.  
  
She slipped into her seat, thanked Tony for her drink and started to poke the straw through the layers of crushed ice in her cocktail. Tony blinked twice, peered along for a second and then nudged her shoulder. “Did ya know we have a first class Polo player sitting amidst us? Didn’t your brother play on the national team for a couple of seasons?”  
  
He barely suppressed the rotten smile that crossed his face and watched Wayne for any outward reaction. When none followed, Tony concluded with a brazen smile. “Now, if that doesn’t make for some interesting small talk, then I don’t know what will. Two experts at one table. Wow.” While Bruce inwardly wanted to bang his head on the wooden table right there and then, he was most definitely not about to grant Stark such satisfaction.  
  
However, he decided to try and take the wind out of Maya's sails. “Well, it’s not my forte, clearly…” With another grand, charming smile Bruce looked at the brunette and pointed towards his bad leg. Maya studied him with a curious look. She had not seen him walk and did not understand what Bruce was hinting at. Tony Stark was only too eager to fill her in.

“Ah yes, how could I forget to mention - 'The Fall from Grace'? My bad. You prolly wouldn’t guess at first sight, Maya, but Wayne here apparently likes to play it rough on the field.” Bruce shot him an icy glance which did not even lessen the sneer on Tony’s lips. “Not just on the field Stark; believe me.” The two women at the table shared a brief glance as the air became thick with hostility.

Pepper then found she had enough and decided on a different approach. She was angry at Tony for provoking Bruce, and at the same time miffed with her fiancé who seemed to rise to the bait so easily. What the table needed was a timeout, before the two billionaires started to bash each other's heads in front of all people. She cleared her throat and pushed her chair back with a resolute, scraping sound.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d _really_ love to dance.”  
Surprised glances were thrown her way, and Pepper hastened to give Bruce what she hoped was an appeasing smile.  
“With regards to your leg, I would resent to Mister Stark’s poor pair of left feet - if you don’t mind?”

Her eyes begged him to play along with whatever plan she had formulated in her head. Just by sheer self-control, Bruce managed to keep his reaction neutral. Pepper then eyed Maya, who looked astonished but did not object, and when her eyes rested on her former boss, she saw pure delight splayed out on his face. He wanted to escort her to the dance floor, but Pepper was already on her way, so Tony happily tagged along.

Surrounded by the dancing crowd, she started to move to the beats, stiffly at first, and with a respective distance to Tony. The latter finally could not hold back any longer and cast her an open grin. “Have to admit, I didn’t see this one coming.” The billionaire then started to show her and everyone around he very well knew how to move to the music at hand, and rather splendid at that.  
  
Pepper held him at arm’s length and shot him a serious look. “I don’t like how you treat him, Tony. Consider this my last, friendly reminder - if you don’t pull yourself together, there’s no chance for us to stay in touch in the future.” Tony almost skipped a beat but caught himself with ease. His moves stayed smooth while Pepper’s dark stare bore into his skull. He put up a look of pure innocence and shrugged in fake confusion.  
  
“Dunno what you’re talking about, Pep - I’ve been the epitome of friendliness so far.” She shot him a scolding glance and inwardly cued the Starkesque puppy-dog-eyes. When they did not disappoint, his blatant scam only irritated her further. “You’ve been the epitome of an, pardon me, _asshole_ tonight, Tony. Why can’t your oh-so-manly ego stomach the fact that not everything in my life revolves around you anymore?”

His lips disappeared in a grim line and, being the gifted faker he was, Tony swerved around in an elegant spin to hide his discomfort. When he grooved towards her again, his composure was back in place, and he smiled. It was a vapid smile; one which deflected most of his true emotions, and one which Pepper also recognized as such in an instant. “What if I told you I’m seeing someone as well?”

That threw her for a loop, and Pepper glanced over to their table where she found Bruce and Maya to be engaged in a conversation. Tony followed her line of vision and gave a wicked grin. He danced up closer towards her and urged her to focus back on him. Her eyes flickered across his face and mirrored themselves in his amber-colored designer shades.

“Then - I’d say... good for you. Even though she’s not what I’ve pegged you to go for. She’s too smart and too natural for your taste.” He gave a playful wince as if he had been slapped, and took a step back. “Ouch. Thanks for that, Potts. Are you implying I’m into the shallow and superficial kind of women?” With a nasty smirk, Pepper pointed a sharp index finger at the place above his well-hidden ARC reactor.  
  
“I’m not implying - I’m exclaiming a fact known to mankind ever since you hit puberty.” Despite his tries to look indignant, Tony had to chuckle and shook his head in exasperation. He threw another glance back to their table before he got serious. “Yeah d'uh, sorry to disappoint, but Maya’s just a friend. Met her back in college; ages ago. She’s a good one, but…” Tony gave a slight shrug which he incorporated well into his dance moves.  
  
Pepper frowned in confusion and extended her hand to point at Maya. “But didn’t you just say…” At that he caught her hand in his, touching her for the first time since they started dancing, and took the opportunity to spin her around. “Just once… ten or so years ago in Switzerland; at a convention or whatever. Never mind. Hey, forget what I’ve said, Pep. I’m still up for grabs. Spread the word.”

Puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior, Pepper detached herself from where he still held her hand. Tony’s eyes were unreadable behind his glasses, but he smirked. “Ha! At least I managed to shake your view of the world for one sec there, didn’t I? Tony Stark - eligible bachelor. Superhero. Filthy rich. Handsome beyond belief.” She could not help but to roll her eyes at him and his self-congratulatory list.  
  
“That’s what it says on your new business cards? If you need to advertise yourself, I truly feel sorry for you.”  
  
Pepper then shimmied away from him to get a better view on Maya Hansen. The doctor had scooted her chair closer to Bruce and they had put their heads together. Tony followed her with a sliding move and circled her. He danced behind her for a moment and, without touching her, leaned in close to make sure she understood every word. “No I don’t. And there’s basically no one I’m interested in. Basically.”  
  
Before Pepper could whirl around and shoo him away, Tony had already spun back around to face her. “But what about you, Potts? Still haven’t tied the knot I take it? Wonder why that is.” His palpable smugness radiated towards her and made her feel exposed all of a sudden. With a huff, Pepper pursed her lips and forced a dismissive smile on her face.  
  
“Oh, don’t you rack your precious little head, Stark. When the day comes, I’ll make sure you’ll be one of the first people to know. How about that?” For the second time since they had started dancing, Tony averted her eyes. He looked away, feigning interest in the people dancing around them. “Wanna know what I think, Pep? Honestly?” He circled her one more time before he continued.  
  
“You’re not one for marriage either. You’re a free spirit like me - you just don’t admit it.” When she did not reply, his voice gained back a bold edge. Tony mustered up the courage to look her square in the eye as he voiced his conclusion. “Plus - if there isn’t a teeny tiny grain of truth to that, you’d be long since walking around, signing all of your credit card statements with ‘Virginia Wayne’. Am I right, or am I right?”

Pepper stopped dancing on the spot, a cold and indignant look on her face. She looked over to witness how Maya Hansen slipped what looked to be a business card over to Bruce, and recognized a nagging feeling of jealousy rising from deep inside of her. “Thanks for the dance, Stark. And try to remember what I told you earlier.” Tony regarded her with skepticism while he waited for a response to his latest accusation.  
  
Her diverted attention told him he would not get one, so he followed her off the dance floor with a sullen expression.

When they got to their table, Maya looked up and slid her chair back over to its original place. Pepper figured something on her face must have told her off. She tried to keep an impartial expression and focused on Bruce’s unreadable face. Maya asked Tony about another round of drinks, and he heartily agreed. He turned on his heel, that time not bothering to ask either Pepper or Bruce.

“I think we should call it a day now, Bruce. I’m very tired – must have been all that swimming this afternoon.”  
Like a true gentleman Bruce did not argue and extended his hand towards Maya across the table instead.  
“You’ve heard my fiancée, Miss Hansen. It’s been a pleasure. I keep your offer in mind and will get back to you.”

The dark-haired woman smiled and nodded as she shook his hand. “That’d be great, Mister Wayne. Thanks for taking the time on your night off. I’m looking forward to hearing from you.” She eyed Pepper with a thoughtful, but friendly expression before she wished them a fantastic vacation. If Bruce Wayne was surprised Pepper left without waiting for Tony Stark to return, he kept his indifferent appearance at all costs.

They made their way across the Piazzetta to fetch a cab. Pepper tried to slow him down and give his leg a break, but he all but dragged her on, and stated he wanted to make it back to their hotel as soon as possible. The drive itself was a silent one, with Bruce looking out of the window behind the driver’s seat, and Pepper regarding his reflection through the window pane, on the far end of the passenger’s side.

His polite but detached behavior continued until they were in their suite where he disappeared in the bathroom shortly after. Frustrated and annoyed without knowing why Pepper started to undress and changed into her nightgown. She dimmed the lights and opened the door to the terrace to let some fresh air in. Soon, Bruce emerged from the bathroom and limped over to the bedside.  
  
He sat down with a grunt and busied himself taking off his watch. When he still did not acknowledge her, Pepper glared at him, arms akimbo. “Now, what is wrong with you?” He gave her a blank-faced look in the semi-darkness of the room. “Nothing is wrong, my darling. Hurry up, I thought you’re tired?” With a harrumph, she turned, entered the still lit chamber and closed the door with more force than necessary.

The room smelled of his toothpaste and shower gel, and Pepper removed her make up before she too brushed her teeth and her hair. After a quick wash, she was done in ten minutes and entered their bedroom again. Bruce had turned off all lights, which left Pepper to inch her way forward to avoid stubbing her toes on any immobile objects. She snuggled underneath the blankets and turned towards him while her eyes adjusted.  
  
He was lying on his back, and still awake from the sound of his controlled breathing. Her hand slipped under the sheets to feel for his arm and give it a gentle caress. “You and Maya got along well it seemed. No constant talk about Polo I hope?” She tried to make her voice sound as neutral as possible. “We didn’t talk about Polo, no.” His voice however, while nonchalant, did not hide its acidic undertone. Pepper frowned.  
  
“Bruce, I know you’re upset. It just seemed a better option than having two famous billionaires wrestle each other to the ground amongst a crowd of tourists in Italy.” He scoffed and adjusted his aching leg underneath the blanket, breaking skin contact with her. Pepper drew her hand back.  
  
“Oh thanks, now you’re implying I’m a public rowdy. Fantastic. Even though… you know what? Stark’s definitely in need of a good beating. That egomaniac nonsense he’s spewing truly is cringe-worthy, good lord!”

“That’s beside the point. I’m just wondering why you keep letting yourself get provoked, despite knowing better?”  
  
Bruce made a sound bordering on incredulous and turned his head towards her. Pepper’s vision was accustomed to the dark and able to make out the whites of his eyes. “Knowing better? Knowing better what? That he’s head over heels with you? Just waiting on making his move? I’m not blind, Pepper. Please don’t tell me you are!” Pepper threw the blanket aside, sat up and reached for the lamp on her nightstand.  
  
Brightness flooded the room, and they both squinted against the sudden change in luminance. “Excuse me? Where does this come from? Did this... this Maya put weird ideas in your head during your cozy little tête-à-tête or something? I’m not blind either, you know!?” Bruce held one hand up in front of his face and propped himself up on an elbow to rub his eyes. “Turn off the light!”  
  
The room plunged into darkness shortly after. The blankets rustled, but Pepper remained sitting. He sighed in exasperation. “Maya Hansen told me about a scientific project of hers. She knows about Wayne Enterprises’ Biotech facilities and is looking around for possible funding ventures.” Bruce lay back down and crossed his arms behind his head. His eyes found the same spot next to the ceiling fan with ease.

“But, guess what else: She and Stark are not an item, which is interesting just because her main idea matches mine: That pompous midget is so into you, whether he admits it or not.” Pepper remained silent and stared into the nothingness of the dark room. Her fingers curled around the edges of the blanket as his words wavered over to her, sounding far away and distant.  
  
“So - that makes my next question rather evident: Be honest and tell me if this cripple here stands a chance with you against Mister-Iron-Ego, or if I’m nothing more than a pathetic rebound guy? Come on, Pepper - don't I deserve to know after all this time?”

A shiver ran down her back at his flat voice, and she inhaled. It came out more like a shaky sigh and she balled her fists around the fine cotton in her lap. Despite fighting it with all her might she had to blink upwards to stop threatening tears from falling. His hurtful words had managed to hit a sore spot on her soul; the only one that had not been mended ever since she had left Tony and her old life behind.

“That’s not fair, Bruce, to both of us. How can you be so cold.” He pulled out his hands to wipe across his face and moved to touch the woman by his side. A boiling anger from deep within threatened to overwhelm him as she flinched away. Bruce grasped her arm and pulled her close. She fell against his chest and he felt the wetness of her tears on his bare skin. “Damn, I... sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”  
  
With a silent shake of her head, she squeezed her hand in between them to wipe at her face. Even as she started to detach herself, Bruce’s grip did not waver. “No! You stay right here! And you talk to me!” With one strong push, Pepper still managed to free herself. She shuffled over to the far end of her bedside, put her feet on the ground but remained sitting. “Sometimes you’re scaring me, Bruce - cowl or not.”

He stared at her hunched back for a few seconds in complete bewilderment before he scrambled up to her. Forgetting about his bad leg punished his carelessness with a sharp stinging muscle cramp right after, and Bruce stopped; his hand a couple of inches away from her. A small groan escaped his lips and he buried his face in the tangled sheets to muffle the sound.

Pepper turned around and saw him lying prone on the bed, one arm outstretched into her direction as he heaved deep breaths. Out of instinct, she reached out and circled his back in a soothing motion. His hand only formed a fist on the mattress. With a gentle nudge to his shoulder blade, she pushed herself up to all fours and faced him. “Turn around and stay on your back.”

He warily raised his head but obeyed without protest. Pepper crawled over and placed herself between his legs, careful not to hustle the bad one. With expert motions, she pressed her thumbs into his quadriceps above the knee and kneaded into the tension underneath the skin. Bruce’s head fell back into the pillow. “Where did you learn that? Goodness!” He hissed out, which made her stop and gauge his reaction.  
  
When he nodded, Pepper continued. “Runner’s knee. Never fun, but I've learned a thing or two.” They were silent for a few moments, during which Pepper focused on the area above his kneecap, and Bruce visibly relaxed underneath her touch. He opened his eyes to watch her silhouette. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. It’s the last thing I want.” She continued to work her silent magic on the tight knots underneath his skin.   
  
Pepper then widened the arc of her motions and used the heels of her hands to smoothen out the taught muscle strands. “I may have over-dramatized. And I think I know how it must have felt when I left you sitting there...” Bruce licked his lips and tried to focus on something else but his half-naked fiancée who massaged his leg all the way up to his hipbones.  
  
“Guess you had your reasons. You wanted to give me the chance to… uh, get to know Maya Hansen and her Polo-playing family bett... ow!”

When she noticed him squirm underneath her touch, Pepper started to tend to the whole length of his muscled thigh. With deliberate motions, she pushed herself up and leaned in on him; to apply more force to her massage and to give him a generous close-up of cleavage underneath her silken negligé. “Oh, so that’s what you think, Mister Wayne? Well, let me tell you I didn’t like Maya Hansen being all close to you…”

Bruce swallowed hard at the view in combination with her sultry voice but kept still when she traced an imaginary line from his thigh up to his chest and neck until her thumb brushed his lips. She slipped one leg across his waist and straddled him with care, placing each of her hands next to his head on the pillow in the process. He did not hold back any longer and his hands moved up to clasp her waist.

“Jealous Miss Potts? Hard to believe.”  
His voice was rough with arousal, and Pepper bent down and started to nuzzle his neck before she whispered in his ear.  
“From what I can feel, that’s not the only hard thing tonight, my darling.”

With a sly grin she applied kisses to every place but his lips, which resulted in Bruce giving a frustrated growl. “Stop playing games with me, lady.” When her nimble fingers went for his boxer shorts, Bruce Wayne’s rational mind switched off and allowed him to get lost in her. The passion and ardor she held for him that night gave him hope to not have lost her to Stark yet, and he swore to himself not to let her go without a fight.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the letter sounds familiar to you, you are absolutely right. I didn't make it up myself, I merely modified it to suit my needs.

Malibu, September 2010

 

_Dear Tony,_

_I need to be honest and clear. I am going to marry Bruce Wayne. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. If you lose your faith in me because of this, at least please keep your faith in people. Still, I hope the day will come for you to accept my decision, and if it does I will be there again, as your friend._

_Love, now and always,  
Pepper_

  
Tony stared long and hard at the small, hand-written letter and reread its lines for the umpteenth time. Slowly he walked back over to the workbench of the shop where the rest of the envelope lay open. With a thoughtful expression, he then flipped the folded piece of cardboard paper over with a flick of his thumb and index finger. It was a letter of invitation, announcing the reopening of stately Wayne Manor.

The Californian billionaire did not even know why the damn thing was closed to begin with.  
Nonetheless, he was asked to attend Bruce Wayne’s official housewarming party on Saturday, 18th September 2010.  
Tony regarded the posh, ivory-colored sheet with its silver lettering and hummed a little.

“Hey Jarvis, think I should go to Gotham City?”  
The billionaire sat down on his favorite swivel chair and placed Pepper’s letter aside.  
“I am not qualified to answer that question, Sir, but I assume it would make Miss Potts happy if you do.”

Stark propped his elbows up on the desktop and wiped his face within his palms.  
“Yeah… that’s what it all boils down to, right?”  
“Pardon me, Sir?”

“Nothing J, just thinking aloud. Imma need a plus one though… any ideas?”  
The AI seemed to ponder that question for a moment.  
“Do you want me to go through the list of your acquaintances to find a suitable match with your... usual requirements?”

With a disgusted look on his face, Tony shook his head no.  
“I’d rather take DUM-E along and have a far more intelligent conversation during the evening. No, call Happy.”

He gave his chair a small push with his feet and rolled over to where the latest schematic diagrams of the Mark XL Hyper Velocity Suit flickered in mid-air. Tony grabbed the digital pen and erased the latest modification from the hologram before starting anew. All too soon, the rumbling voice of Happy Hogan resounded through the workshop.

“What up, bossman? You really in need of a ride for once?”

The billionaire’s tongue tracked the motions of his pen in concentration while he drew. Then he cocked his head. “Matter of fact I am. Mark your calendar for September 18th. It’s a Saturday and you better cancel any other plans for that weekend, Hapster. Oh, and go dust off your tux while you’re at it: We’re going to Gotham City.”

Silence followed on the other end. Happy’s mind was probably working a mile a minute which, in turn, was making Tony almost squirm with barely contained impatience. “Did you bump your frigging head over there? Gotham City – you nuts?!”

After he took his time to critically eye the changed outline on the flat beak-like mouthpiece, Tony seemed satisfied and saved his settings. “Boy, you have no idea. Apart from that, my brain’s working just fine. Got an invitation from Pepper and her desk jockey. Housewarming party of some kind.”

“You sure you wanna do this? That’s dangerous territory you’re walking there - if you get my drift.”  
Happy sounded unsure and Tony puckered his lips as he stood up and circled the 3D model of Mark XL.  
“If I don’t wanna lose her for good, I gotta play ball. Doesn’t mean I like it, but you’re gonna have my back, so we’ll be just fine and dandy.”

“Word, boss. You got two more weeks to make up your mind. If you still wanna go, I’ll tell Dwight to get us a Royce or something over there.”

“You’re the best Hap, talk to ya later.”

Tony ended the call and tried to focus back on his latest suit creation. His heart had started to beat heavily in his chest all of a sudden. He sat down again and ran his hands through his hair to distract himself from the uneasiness that seeped through his body. Stark then shook his head lightly as he tried to clear his vision. Those diffuse moments had started to creep up on him in the past couple of weeks, and they seemed to increase in intensity with each new time.

“Are you okay, Sir? My scanners detect an elevation of your heart rate, and your pulse has also quickened.”  
  
Tony waved his AI off with one hand and proceeded to take the digital pen into his shaky hand again. He fought the bout of dizziness and put up a brave facade. “I’m good J, probably just too much coffee. Hey, show me the blueprints of the Mark XIX again; something’s not right with the velocity levels of this baby here.”

***

Gotham City, 18th  September 2010

On Saturday evening around 8PM, Tony Stark and Harold Happy Hogan stood, dressed impeccably in formal Black Tie attire, outside the majestic and illuminated façade of Wayne Manor. They let their eyes roam around the vast premises and the building which sat enthroned amidst the area called Palisades. While Happy could not help but to whistle low in admiration, Tony only gave a grudging snort.

“Ugh. Macbeth, anyone? We should’ve dressed as minstrel and jester.”

Happy threw his driver’s cap onto the dashboard and handed the keys to the rented Rolls Royce over to an approaching valet. He smoothed out his hair with his palms and tugged at his dinner jacket. Tony’s renegade mind had decided on buying Bruce Wayne a thoroughbred racehorse, despite Happy’s and Dwight Johnson’s utter protests. Much to Tony’s joy and warped sense of humor, the horse would be delivered on another day some time after the party; thus leaving them empty handed for the actual event.

“Question would just be who’s who, eh boss?”

Tony cast him a knowing, dirty look and began to walk up the gravel path that was neatly lined with blazing torches and led up towards the main entrance of Wayne Manor. Happy followed close on his heels and they got accredited in the foyer. The opulent halls were furnished with taste, and everything was polished and proper. A faint smell of paint and cement lingered in the air, but Tony paid it no mind and continued to take his surroundings in.

There were a lot of people around; the women all dressed up to the nines in overpriced glitzy evening dresses, and the men a black uniformed mass of tuxedos. Decent violin music wavered over to them, and Tony gave an audible sigh. It was going to be one of _those_ nights, and he was not looking forward to it at all. The billionaire nudged Happy with his shoulder and pointed his chin towards a large dining room, where the reception took place and waiters walked around with trays.

“Any idea where she is?”

Happy’s meaty hand clenched around the delicate flute filled with orange juice as he stole furtive glances around, not recognizing a single face. The Gotham City upper elite rarely, if ever, mingled with the east or west coast VIP scene; Bruce Wayne apparently was the only exception to that unspoken rule. Tony shook his head no and mimicked his gaze, grousing in silence at the wrinkled back of an elder lady nearby.

“Nah. Guess we’ll have to wait and see. At least this stuff here isn’t as bad as I figured.”

Tony pointed to the expensive champagne before he chugged it in one swift motion and managed to dispose of the empty flute when an elder waiter walked past. In one fluent motion, Stark took a new glass from the tray and noticed the amused look on the waiter’s face as the man attempted to pass him by. Indignant, Tony grabbed his sleeve to halter his stride.

“Hey Jeeves, what’s with all those old geezers around here? This shindig’s any good?”

The server mustered the short, dark haired billionaire with a benevolent smile and leaned over to his brazen-faced guest. Seeing that he towered over him with at least two inches, Tony subconsciously pushed himself up on his toes and raised his chin in a cocky way.

“Oh, you have _no_ idea, Sir.”

With these words, the waiter walked away before Tony Stark could give him so much of an absentminded nod. One look at Happy, who shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Tony knew he felt nothing but uncomfortable as well. He stepped up closer and leaned in to speak over the high level of sound. “Here’s the plan, Hap. Keeping it light's the name of the game: We'll find Pepper and Wayne - make some goodwill small talk - be in and out under two hours. Afterwards you can drop me off at Chateau Marmont, and I might be just in time for tonight’s Pool Party Bash to see the 90210 girls getting wet. This evening’s not doomed yet...”

Around them, a murmur went through the crowd, and both Tony and Happy turned around to follow its source.

On top of an imposing stone staircase stood Bruce Wayne, dressed in an expensive tuxedo, and mustered the waiting crowd downstairs with polite interest. He turned sideways as none other than Pepper stepped up next to him, and took his proffered hand. Her eyes and shy smile were solely focused on him. The long black dress she wore was a one-shouldered eye catcher with an expressive black and white lined, ornamented ruffle. Her hair was a honey-colored shade of blonde and coiffed into a sharp-cut, long bob.

Tony watched in pained fascination as she was led down the stairs and people all around him started to whisper in hushed voices as the couple descended side by side. They came to a halt on the last but three steps to face their many expectant guests. Bruce cast Pepper another glance, paired with a small smile, before he addressed the waiting crowd. When he spoke, he exposed two rows of flawless, white teeth.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us tonight. After a long time, I’m proud to welcome you back here at Wayne Manor.”  
  
He put his free hand into his pocket and looked around with a wistful glint in his eyes. “Thankfully, we were able to restore my family’s estate like many of you may remember it from before the disastrous fire. And even though this building has gotten reconstructed brick by brick to remind us of its past glory, there is one thing going to be different around here in the future.”

He turned his head towards the woman by his side and gently squeezed her hand. “I am very pleased to announce that the lovely Miss Virginia Potts has accepted my proposal, and agreed to not only share my home, but also my life with me.”

Bruce raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles; giving Gotham City’s elite a generous view on her impressive diamond engagement ring. The crowd erupted in a crescendo of applause, to which the couple politely smiled and nodded their thanks. Then Bruce led his fiancée and their guests over to the banquet arrangement in the nearby ballroom, where everything was prepared for a banquet.

Happy and Tony remained frozen to the spot as people pushed and prodded past them to follow their host and find their tables.  
A grave-looking chauffeur cast his boss a worried glance.  
“Enough masochism for you? Or should we at least stuff our faces before we haul ass?”

Tony straightened his back and made his way over to the ballroom without a reply. When Happy stayed behind, he swung around, eyes ablaze.   
“Minor change of plan Hapster. I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken with Pepper – alone!”  
He dashed forward, and Happy cast a brief glance upwards before he followed him.

***

They were seated at a table far away from the engaged couple, and suffered through a three course meal, smarmy congratulatory speeches and a radiant looking Pepper, who seemed to fit in so painfully well with the Gotham City money nobility. The young woman beamed with pride next to her smooth, nonchalant fiancé, and Tony’s mood hit bottom.

Things started to take another turn for the worse when he felt the well-known, inner restlessness creeping up on him once again. He tried to hamper the feeling with ordering a scotch every time a waiter passed him by. Even though it made the pain in his heart a little easier, he reminded himself to not get fully hammered and embarrass himself in front of Pepper later on.

All sounds, lights and smells seemed to increase in intensity the longer he sat, drank, watched his surroundings and tried to distract himself.

The nagging feeling inside of him persisted, grew, and Tony soon felt cold sweat breaking out on his back and temples. He unobtrusively wiped his face down and glimpsed around to see if someone had noticed his bout of discomfort. His bodyguard threw him a questioning glance, but Tony waved him off with forced airiness as he willed his body and mind to stay calm.

As the first sounds of the live band introduced the more informal part of the evening, and people started to get up and dance, Tony all but flinched and started to scan the exits. The horrid feeling of being trapped twisted around his rib cage like a steel strip, and the noise and commotion all around almost drove him nuts. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest and his stomach churned violently, up to the point where he feared he might get sick on the spot.

With a mumbled excuse towards Happy, the billionaire eventually scrambled up and fled from the scene, pushing through the crowd. His friend, while completely oblivious to the inner torment of his boss, was just about to follow him nevertheless, when he saw Pepper making her way over to their table. She smiled at him from afar; delighted at the sight of a familiar face.

“Happy! It’s good to see you!”  
Hogan rose from his chair and extended an awkward hand.  
She took it to pull him into a hearty, informal hug instead.

“Uhm, hi, Pepper. You look gorgeous tonight. I mean... not that you didn't always - still do probably, but since you’re not around anymore, I wouldn’t really know…”  
  
As people near them curiously seized him up, the longtime friend and chauffeur stopped rambling aloud, shifted uncomfortably and sat back down in his seat. Pepper gave him a soothing smile before her eyes came to rest upon the empty chair next to him. With a puzzled expression, she looked at the bodyguard.

“Where’s Tony? I thought I’d seen him earlier on…”  
Happy leaned forward on his elbows and clasped his hands together.  
“Oh, bossman’s here alright. You think I would've let him go into the lion’s den alone?”

He stopped and stared at his shoes, embarrassed by what just slipped his tongue.  
“Uh... sorry. He just went out to get some air. Looked like he needed it.”  
Pepper sighed, gathered her expensive dress with care and slid onto the vacant chair next to him.

“I really wasn’t sure if he would come. I’m very glad both of you did. I don’t want to lose you guys, I just… had to make a decision.”  
At that, Happy looked back up into the serious face of the young woman, and took a few approaches in answering.

“Yeah, guess so. Even if I can’t understand - it’s your life and your decision. It’s just – Tony... Man, he…”  
Hogan leaned back and made a vague, sweeping gesture with his arm.  
“… it’s bad, Pepper. He doesn’t say a word about it, but it’s bad.”

Pepper Potts frowned and checked their surroundings, to make sure nobody missed her presence elsewhere for the moment.  
When she focused back on Happy, she urged him to speak on.  
  
“It’s not just what happened with you – of course that’s been a very heavy blow for him to begin with. But after New York, something’s just... changed in him.” The bulky man looked at her and leaned in. ”He’s even more erratic than usual, doesn’t sleep, hardly comes out of the shop anymore - and Jarvis said he’s building a goddamn armada of suits underneath his house...I dunno Pep, maybe he’s going crazy.”

Happy exhaled and hooked his elbow around the backrest of his chair whilst scanning the crowd for a possible return of the man in question.

The frown on Pepper’s face took on a worried edge. A sickening feeling pooled in her stomach, and she wrung cold hands, despite the warmth in the dining hall. She thought back to the last time she had met Tony on Capri, tried to rack her brain for things that might have seemed wrong with him, but came up empty. Maybe she had not paid enough attention to possible details that were off; they were not that close anymore.

She then realized Happy was still looking at her, waiting. “Does… Jim know about this? Remember when Tony returned from Afghanistan, and we weren’t sure if it’d be PTSD? It could still be a possibility, like Jim said, even back then.”

Hogan just shrugged and told her that ever since her resignation, not even Colonel James Rhodes had been able to get through to Tony Stark. “If you really wanna know, Peps: He avoids Rhodes like the plague in order to avoid speaking about it. And by it, I mean both you, _and_ New York.”  
  
With a heavy heart, Pepper Potts rose from the chair and looked at Happy with a determined expression on her face.  
“I’m gonna go looking for him. It’s best if you wait here; I think I'll handle this on my own.”  
The bodyguard twisted around in his seat and waved his hands around.  
  
“That’s gonna take you a while – this palace is huge. And what about your party?”  
With a grim smile Pepper patted the slight crinkles in her lap and pushed the empty chair back in its position.  
“It’s not just my party for starters. And most areas are locked tonight, so this basically just leaves outdoors. Be right back.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Once she had left Happy sitting at the table, Pepper went to look for her former boss. In swift strides she had crossed the ballroom and hurried through the empty foyer to make her way over to the main entrance. Outside to the left, some valet boys loitered around, smoking cigarettes and watching the parking grounds that harboured all luxurious vehicles of their guests for the evening.

The torches in the distance still illuminated the path around the big fountain and straight ahead towards the main road, but Pepper figured Tony would not have meandered off that far; especially not on foot. She gathered up her dress to prevent the gravel dust from tainting the hem and stepped down the lithic stairs to abscond to the right towards the back of the Manor.

There, the beautiful gardens stretched out and presented a free view across the 150 acres of lush countryside belonging to the Wayne premises. Another, smaller fountain idly lapped in the distance, and the only visible light came from the exterior illumination of the building. Pepper knew she hit the mark when she saw a lonesome figure leaning against the fountain.

Careful with her stilettos on the gravel, she tiptoed over to where he stood hunched over the rim, stared into the water and heaved deep breaths.

“Tony, hey. Here you are. You alright?”  
He spun around fast as lightning, eyes wild until he recognized who his intruder was.  
“Pepper! God, don’t creep up on me like that – you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He tried to smooth out the apparent distress to give her his trademark grin but struggled to find the right measure.  
She held up her palms in mock surrender.  
“Sorry – I thought the gravel was a dead giveaway.”

With thoughtful scrutiny she regarded him. His face was pale and drawn, and he seemed to have lost weight since Capri. Most disturbing were his eyes; troubled emotions lurked beneath them and made it impossible for him to look at her. Pepper stepped nearer, and together they leaned their backs against the fountain and faced the illuminated facade of the Manor in silence for a couple of minutes. Tony then crossed his arms.

“Know what’s weird? This crib here smells like a new build but looks like an old museum.”  
Pepper followed his line of vision and cocked her head.  
“Appearances can be deceiving. The historical part will be whatever people are gonna make of it in the future.”

He glanced over at her with a sad smirk.  
“People like you and your soon-to-be husband I take it.”  
Pepper kept quiet and looked down where her feet were neatly placed side by side.

She felt awkward talking about Bruce in front of Tony, and decided to change the topic. “Happy told me you’ve been working nonstop in the shop; neglecting non-vital functions like sleeping and eating. Wanna tell me what’s going on? Cause it shows, Tony.” He waved her off with a humorless laugh before his hands wandered into the pockets of his expensive Valentino tuxedo.

“Nah, Pep, just business as usual. Happy’s exaggerating. I’m good. Hey, I’m Iron Man, remember?” Pepper was not warded off for one second. Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder but he flinched and drew away. “Tony. Think about whom you are trying to fool here – it’s still me and I can see you’re not good. From what I assume since New York and the attacks of the Chitauri…”

Before she could finish he broke away from her and walked off a couple of steps. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides. “Goddammit, why can’t you just let this go? I told ya I’m fine, what else do you want? Health certificate? Psychological appraisal? Sorry to disappoint, _Mrs. Wayne,_ but it’s really none of your damn business anymore!”

He turned and kicked the pillar of the fountain in anger, only to grimace at the pain that shot up in his foot moments later.  
Pepper stared at his back, stunned at the sudden outburst of rage. She then huffed indignantly.  
“Fine. Have it your way. I just wanted to help, Tony, but I see you don’t want any of that. I’ll better leave you alone.”  
  
With a push off the rim Pepper headed for the Manor; not caring how her expensive heels buried themselves deep into the gravel that time.  
“Do you really wanna know what _I_ fuckin’ want, Pepper? _DO YOU?”_  
Flabbergasted she stopped and swung around as his voice rose and cracked.

Tony faced her, fists still balled, with ragged breathing. His face twisted with desperation and agony.  
“Only if you manage to tone it down a little, Mister Stark - I’m not deaf.”  
She watched him lower his head in frustration and run a shaky hand through his coiffed hair, leaving it slightly ruffled.

Looking back up, he spoke softly, defeated.  
“I want you back in my life, Pepper. I can’t stand losing you to someone else. Damn, I... need you so much.”  
Pepper squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath; then another one.

Goosebumps started to run over her bare arms. How she had longed to hear those words from him in the past, only to find them mocking her right there and then. “Why now? It’s been ten years... ten goddamn years full of chances and opportunities, and you never once – never _once_ …” She opened her eyes again and found him staring back at her with a miserable look on his face and no answer on his lips.

Anger welled up in her and she jabbed a finger at him. “You know what? I think you’re confusing feelings with possessiveness, Anthony Stark. Cause for once, you don’t get what you want. It's just silly old me by chance.” She was about to leave when she heard a soft, crunching thud. Pepper turned around, and gasped. Tony had sunken down on his knees into the gravel.   
  
“Every damn day I’m thinking about you Pep, about us… and I know now I should’ve put it down – _I_ should’ve been the one who got that ring on your finger.” His voice started to hitch in his breath and he swayed a little as his arms hung limply at his sides. By intuition, Pepper strode over to steady him with her hands on his shoulders. Tony remained kneeling as his large and soulful eyes stared up at her; brimming with emotion.  
  
He swallowed hard and searched her face for any affirmation.  
“Don’t marry him Pep, please!”  
Pepper tugged a little on his jacket and tried with the normalcy of a former PA.  
  
“Get back up, Tony, please. Your suit’s getting dirty.”  
Instead of complying, he gripped the front of her dress like a drowning man.  
“Fuck the suit. Fuck _all_ the suits. Fuck _everything_. Marry me, Pepper Potts. Marry _me!_ ”  
  
Tony was unrelenting, and Pepper more and more troubled with the situation. She tried to block out all of what he had told her and focused on getting him on his feet and back into the Manor before anyone found her missing and sent a search team. Her attempts were noble but futile. Out of nowhere, a calm, familiar voice resounded through the night.

“What’s going on here?”  
  
Bruce Wayne stood, a few feet away, in the semi-shadows. When he sauntered nearer his casual attitude deflected any emotion. His presence at least seemed to shake Tony out of his stupor. He started to get back up on his feet, unsteady and uncaring about the dusty white blotches on his pants. Out of instinct, Pepper stepped up and shielded him. Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets and stopped in front of her. 

At the unspoken question in his emotionless eyes, she tried to give him a diffusing smile. “Bruce - everything’s alright. Tony just… wasn’t feeling well and I wanted to make sure he’s okay.” He acknowledged her attempt with a nod that bordered on disbelief. His eyes switched to the other billionaire. “I see. Now - _are_ you okay, Mister Stark? If so, I’d like you to leave this party, preferably within the next five minutes.”

At the cold, sarcastic voice Tony spread out his arms in a cocky gesture. “Fit as a fiddle, thanks for your heartfelt concern there. Wanted to leave anyhow – other commitments. This party sucks.” He paired his flippancy with a shit-eating grin and dug the tip of his shoe into the ground. It sent bits of gravel into the other man’s direction. Undeterred, Bruce reached out and put an arm around Pepper’s shoulder.

He started to guide her away, out of Stark's close proximity and back into the direction of the Manor. “Good for you. Let’s hope you’ll find more of your kind there. Have a nice evening.” Tony’s face contorted in anger at the condemnation in Wayne’s voice as he followed them and jabbed a finger at Bruce’s retreating back.  
  
“Ooh, look who’s talking! Mister High and Mighty with his Lameborghini and fancy-schmancy Buckingham Palace rip-off. The fuck you know about me and my kind, punk, huh?” Bruce stopped walking on the spot, causing Pepper to falter. She tugged at his sleeve and shook her head with a pleading look in her eyes. “Don’t. Bruce, please. Let me handle this.”

Before he could answer, Pepper swung around and faced the Californian billionaire who looked even more miserable than earlier on. “Tony – Tony, listen to me. You better go home now. Find Happy and _Go. Home._ You need to rest and sleep this off; you’re not thinking straight. Do it for me - please?” Behind her Bruce had come to stand so close, she could feel the lapels of his jacket on the exposed skin of her shoulder blade.  
  
Tony cast large, sad eyes onto her. “I’d do anythin' for you, Pep. S’what I’ve been trying to tell you.” She winced at his poor choice of words and pressed her lips together, inwardly begging him to stop talking. From the corner of her eyes, Pepper saw how Bruce drew himself up to his full height. “I think you better stop now, Stark, before this gets really ugly.”

By the sound of his voice, it took the Gotham billionaire a lot of self-control to stay polite. He turned to his fiancée, more insistent this time. “Come on, Pepper. Let’s go.” They turned around and proceeded to walk away when Tony played his final card. “How can I stop, when the only woman I’ve ever loved in my life is about to marry a goddamn, moronic douchebag?”

As fast as a dark flash of lightning Bruce spun around and his fist connected heavily with Tony’s cheekbone. It sent the Californian billionaire reeling backward to fall to the ground with a dull thud. Pepper heard someone scream and knew the sound must have escaped her throat. She dashed forward, about to drag her fiancé away from Tony. Somehow she managed to get hold of a muscular arm.  
  
“NO, STOP IT!”

At her voice and touch, Wayne relented and stepped back from the crumbled form of Tony Stark. Bruce breathed out, unclenched his fist and regarded the man to his feet. ”If you’re still fit as a fiddle, you shouldn’t have a problem finding the exit on your own. If not, the security guards will be glad to help you out.” He licked his lips and made a move to clasp Pepper’s hand again.

She avoided his grip and, with compassionate eyes, watched how Tony crouched into a position on his knees and fingered his face. From his half-sitting position he looked up at her, and Pepper saw blood starting to drip down. It quickly stained the gravel and his white shirt. Tony carefully probed his nose and wiped at the small rivulets of red with his fingers.

The pebbles crunched as he scrambled back up to his feet and sniffed against the ceaseless flow. He then looked down at his mucked up suit with disdain. “Fuck, there goes my night at the Chateau.” Pepper walked over to him, removed the pocket square from his jacket and wanted to start dabbing at the flowing blood. “I’m so sorry, Tony.” He took the piece of cloth from her hands to hold it underneath his nose with a lopsided smirk.

"Guess I’d better leave before anyone sees me; I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Tony gave a shrewd smile when he saw the approaching, bulky silhouette of Happy Hogan in the distance, as he made his way over to them across the green lawn. “See? As if he has an internal radar for trouble. Even if it’s slightly off kilter when it comes to timing.” Bruce continued to glower at him and Tony straightened his shoulders.  
  
“I’m _so_ gonna send you the invoice of my dry cleaner and my plastic surgeon.”

The Gotham billionaire's face did not move. Wayne shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glanced at the women between them. “That was two hits - me hitting you, you hitting the floor. You’d regret a third. Leave.” Without waiting for his fiancée, Bruce turned and headed for the Manor’s side entrance. Pepper watched with mixed feelings; torn between following and saying Tony goodbye.  
  
“Was this really necessary?” Her voice sounded small and helpless and the frustration in it was evident. The evening was ruined no matter what, and Tony’s revelation loomed like a dark shadow over them. “Can’t be sorry for the truth Pep, no matter what you decide to make of it.” He crumpled the bloodied pocket square in his right fist.

Before any of them could say another word, Happy reached them, slightly out of breath. Stunned he observed Tony’s outward appearance. “See boss, _this_ is why I don’t let you get some fresh air by yourself. Pepper - don’t tell me you…” Indignant Pepper opened her mouth to object, but Tony gave his bodyguard a crooked grin and affectionately patted his shoulder.

“All those boxing lessons from you must’ve paid off in the end, Hapster. She throws one helluva punch. Let’s get going now before someone snaps a picture. Cause _that_ would really hurt… namely my ego.” The billionaire started to push his dumbfounded chauffeur back into the direction he had come from. Both men turned back around towards the forlorn woman in the darkened garden area, when she called after them.

“Tony?”  
She swallowed and stared down to avert his eager eyes.  
“There was a point, where... knowing the truth would’ve been too good to be true.”

Biting her lip at her all but admission, Pepper turned around and scurried away to find her future husband.  
She knew she needed to try and salvage the rest of the night.  
For both of them.

***

Bruce reentered the ballroom with a glum expression. His leg started to hurt after the incident outside, and he tried to conceal his limp from the prying eyes of his guests who mustered him. When an elderly couple approached him, his features morphed into the debonair vapid mask that left no question he was enjoying himself beyond belief.

“Ah, Mister Wayne. So good seeing the old values reinstated in Gotham. Your parents would be proud. And in no time no one will speak about that incident at your last birthday party.” The elder man, Bruce remembered him as a man of independent means who knew his father well, smiled in conciliation and took a sip of his champagne. Bruce was about to give a polite enough answer, just as the man’s wife reached out to pat his arm.  
  
Her heavy perfume wavered over to him and he tried to take shallow breaths through his nose. “Yes dear, and with that lovely fiancée of yours, the only thing everybody will be talking about is the future Wayne family planning.” She looked at her husband for affirmation with a coy smile before she leaned in close to Bruce and pinched his biceps. He shifted, unperceived, and gave her his best, rehearsed simper.  
  
The smell was slow but steady making him nauseous. Much to his luck, her husband piped in and had suitable words for her improper, suggestive innuendo. “Irene, hush. You’re embarrassing Mister Wayne here.” Bruce generously waved him off and, at the same time, hastened to take his leave. He headed for the bar in hope of finding Alfred somewhere along the way. With grace, he slipped through the party crowd that was in full swing.

People everywhere tried to lure him into mindless conversations, but he kept his responses to a minimum, his declinations polite, and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the familiar outline of his butler at the bar. Alfred was just done instructing a couple of waitresses and waiters and shooed them away with yet another round of beverages and hors d’œuvres into the crowd.

When his protege stepped up behind him and grabbed the mahogany counter like a lifeline, Alfred turned around and mustered the sour face of the young billionaire with an amused look. “Master Wayne. Enjoying the party, I take it?” Bruce shot him a darkened look that made the butler respond with a benevolent smile.

“May I remind you that this was your idea, Sir? I think Miss Potts is definitely doing a much better job in enjoying herself than you are. You should take notes.” When Alfred pushed a tumbler with an amber-colored drink into his direction, Bruce clasped his hand around the glass and raised it to his lips with slow movements. After he had caught the faint whiff of Ginger Ale the billionaire took a sip and cocked his head.  
  
“Oh, you’re probably more right on _that_ one than you think, Alfred.”  
  
When he did not care to elaborate, the elder man leaned in closer for a moment.

“If you want to keep those people happy and off your back in the future, you need to give them what they want to see. They want to see Bruce Wayne -the happy, newly engaged prince of Gotham- not the upstage arsonist who had offended every single one of them to the core the last time. I reckon that this may not be the most comfortable mask for you, Master Wayne, but tonight, you _do_ need to wear it.”

Before Bruce could answer Alfred straightened his back and wandered off with an air of authority and dignity to cater to their guests. His back towards the hustle and bustle, Bruce took swigs from his drink and stared down the wooden counter. Not long after, two feather-like hands clasped his shoulders. He did not have to turn around to know whom they belonged to and remained sitting until the female voice spoke up.

“I thought you’d be here.”  
He only snorted in response and drowned the rest of his Ginger Ale.  
“I thought you’d left with him. How convenient.”

Pepper sighed and let her hands slide off his shoulders before she walked around and appeared in his line of view.  
“You know what would be convenient? If my fiancé has the next dance with me.”  
He gave her a wary look but put down his glass and pushed himself off the counter.

“As you wish, Milady.”

Pepper did not fail to notice the tight grip Bruce had on her hand as he led her over to the dance floor area. She tried to maintain the impression of a blushing bride to be, seeing Bruce had schooled his features into an equally pretended mask of happiness. With a flick of his wrist, he spun her around and led her into a waltz. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the other dancing pairs move out of their way to watch them.

She cast Bruce a gauging look he ignored as he continued to stare ahead with a detached look on his face. Pepper hid a sigh behind a gentle smile and squeezed his shoulder, trying to get his attention. “Are we going to talk about this or not?” Bruce’s eyes flickered to hers. He gave her a magnificent smile as if she had just told him something entirely romantic. Pepper had to admit he was almost fooling her with his charade.  
  
“I don’t think there’s much to talk about. He’s in love with you, you stay away from him in the future, and everything’s going to be fine."

“You’re _ordering_ me to stay away from my friends? I guess I’ll take a closer look at the prenup if Bruce Wayne turns out to be a closet misogynist.”

While his eyes were shocked, his face did not betray him with any emotion. Pepper looked over his shoulder into the blurred faces of the crowd when he hissed back at her. “We’ve just made this whole thing official. I may seem to be a notorious playboy just like your beloved Stark, but sharing my woman has never been part of this charade.”

With more force than necessary, Bruce spun her around and, without warning, switched into the basic version of an Argentine tango. Both of them were supreme dancers, which made the transition fairly smooth, and the musicians hastened to pick up on the change and rearrange their composition to fit with their hosts’ unspoken wish.

”That’s how it’s going to be between us, Bruce? Because I can forgive you for punching my best friend, can forgive you for not wanting him to set a foot into this house again - but I would never, ever forgive you if you try to tie me down and imprison me. I agreed on becoming your wife in public, but not on suffering the consequences for it in silence.”

Whilst the dance seemed harmonious to their audience, it felt more like a duel to Pepper. A duel in which she tried to maintain a flirtatious image, even though it was anything but. The way her fiancé continued to guide her through the motions spoke of more than frustrated love. It somehow spoke of fatality; of their destinies engulfed in pain. It made her feel everything, which Bruce Wayne could not; would not be able to put into words.

His eyes were dark and dangerous with no hint of their usual hazel color. Pepper Potts felt she like was dancing with the Batman. She had to look away. “I won’t tell you what to do and what not to, Pepper. But even my faith in humanity has its limits.” She reopened them to regard the handsome man in front of her. Bruce’s voice was deep and grave as he closed the distance of their embrace with a final pull.  
  
He pressed her close to him as she stared at his distinctive jaw line in fascination. His rough virility was frightening and arousing at the same time. His two-faced personality, however, seemed more prevalent than before, and an uneasy feeling blossomed in the back of her mind. Pepper tried to ignore it; calmed herself thinking it was because of what had happened and nearly laughed out loud at her sudden flight of fancy.  
  
She was not going down the aisle with a human-sized bat after all.

Around them, people started refilling the dance floor after the couple had finished their impressive showmanship, and Pepper allowed Bruce to lead her off the dance floor. Before the two of them could take a seat, Alfred approached them from the side and told them the fireworks scheduled for midnight were soon about to take place. Several attendants were going through the crowd to inform the guests about the outdoor event.

With a grim nod, Bruce reinforced his grip on Pepper’s hand and made his way over to where Alfred guided them upstairs into a room with a respectable balcony. According to the event protocol, the engaged couple was supposed to watch the spectacle from their secluded but illuminated lounge, whilst they, in turn, could be watched by the guests downstairs.  
  
The elder butler stayed in the back but leaned closer to where the silent woman nervously brushed at her dress. “Do you need anything, Miss Potts?” Pepper shook her head with a rueful expression on her face and turned around. Her professional, smiling facade was back in place in an instant. After she had blinked up into the still dark sky, she glanced over to her fiancé and studied his profile.  
  
Bruce turned his head towards her at the same moment, and a dangerous smile appeared on his face. Before she could object he leaned in for a deep kiss. His hand tangled in her hair behind her ear where it kept her firmly in place. When Pepper thought she was about to faint from lack of oxygen, he eventually released her. Downstairs the crowd cheered; even more so when the first few rounds of fiery effects went off.  
  
After her initial shock, Pepper’s eyes opened and she gasped for air as she held onto the balustrade for balance. Stunned she watched Bruce pull back and resume his faked interest in the spectacle that was blazing across the sky. "Why... did you do that?" With careful pretense, Pepper watched the fireworks as well and her voice almost got drowned in the crackle and whistle all around. Bruce had understood nonetheless.

"We both needed a reminder.”

At that moment Pepper felt utterly alone next to the man by her side as both of them stood close together, picture-perfect for the people downstairs to admire. She raised her head to look into the sky where a multitude of colors and clusters of non-moving stars were displayed, and thought about freedom, love, and missed opportunities.

 

**End of part II**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that escalated quickly. Anyways, so much for part II. A humble and grateful 'Thank you' to anyone reading, commenting or giving kudos. Each matters a lot to me!


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